Dolls of the Night
by Cassadee Willows
Summary: When a mysterious women shows up at the BAU with a letter and a key to Reid's past, the team rushes to stop a killer before more women and two members of their team go down with the night.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone! My name is Cassadee and I'm new here. I enjoy baking, buying various kinds of lip smackers and then internally arguing with myself over which to try first, and making random duck referenced jokes. Sorry, every time I enter into an introduction I immediately feel like the world is a personals ad. As you can tell, I'm not your average author.

Writing is my passion. I am working on my first novel, but am no stranger to fan fiction. However, writing a television fan fiction is something I've yet to do. Usually I write musician ones where I can manipulate the person into who I see them as, instead of working with characters that have already been created and are well known. I also primarily write in first person narrative, so this is only my second shot at attempting third person. This whole venture is a challenge for me. I welcome any and all reviews and criticism. I appreciate it, so feel free to sound off. I'm not easily offended and take everything as a step towards making my writing better.

Just a few words about this fiction to get the story started. Criminal Minds is one of my favorite shows. I am working on getting each character down pat for this story. Reid is my favorite character, mostly because he's gentle and adorable, so this story is Reid centric, but also features the rest of the characters as well as a plot that ties in some past story arcs. I promise that I have an entire concept for this story mapped out and designed to play out a little at a time, so please bear with me. If some things don't make sense, I promise they will later down the line. My original character, Alona (Lo), comes somewhat shrouded in mystery for all her own reasons, so she, particularly, may seem inconsistent, but it will all pull together as you read further into the story. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I am friendly and don't bite.

It's probably worthy to note that the story picks up immediately after JJ leaves. I kind of went my own way with how that worked out, although it is similar to what Criminal Minds has decided to segue into. I originally wrote this three weeks ago and intended to post it, but didn't want to until I had the entire story mapped out and made sure it was exactly what I wanted first. I want to make this story as good as it can possibly be. As I said, constructive criticism is most certainly welcome, and if you like it, thank you very much.

I will try my best to update often. I'm in the middle of a three year battle with my health, which strongly affects the time I have to write. I promise that I will update as often as possible and not let the story fall wayward. I thank you for reading :)!

**Chapter 1**

**Alona**

It was a crisp fall day in Virginia, the trees just beginning to turn as a chill started to consider filling the air, but retreated just in time for morning coffee to take over the day. Federal Agent Dr. Spencer Reid removed himself from his vehicle and walked toward the entrance of the J. Edgar Hoover building. Today wasn't going to be an ordinary day. He ran over all plausible, explainable reasons in his head for knowing that so early in the day, and chalked it up to the logistics of pre-anticipation for the first day of work without his colleague, Jennifer Jareau. He wished she hadn't been forced away from the team, but there wasn't a thing he could do about it. He had researched all the possible routes and came up empty, which was a unique problem that rarely plagued his genius mind.

As he approached the building, minding his own business as normal, his eyes were drawn away from their place on the sidewalk and to a young women who was sitting on the edge of a large, concrete flower pot outside of the agents' entrance. If there was one thing Dr. Reid noticed, it was what was different or incorrect with any given situation. Finding what was normal in every situation came easy to Dr. Reid, but what didn't belong popped out. He knew immediately she did not belong. If not just for the simple fact that he had not seen her face around the bureau before, but because she was not dressed as a federal agent would be. Her white, ruffled lace top, light pink flowered skirt, brown cowboy boots and country bumpkin appearance, in contrast to her classic blonde hair that was littered gracefully with fiery red streaks, screamed nothing of someone who belonged. He would have remembered her.

He continued his approach to the building, debating if he should ask why she was there, curious. Instead, he decided to go about his business and not disrupt hers. It wasn't in his somewhat shy, socially awkward nature to interfere where he need not. He surmised by the way she was sipping her coffee, cup tilted fully back, that she had been there awhile and was at the bottom of her cup. If no one had approached her by now, there must be a reason for her to be there. What Dr. Reid didn't anticipate was what came next.

"Excuse me? Dr. Reid?" He looked away from her for only a few short seconds, but it was long enough for her to throw her coffee cup in the garbage aligning the sidewalk, and make it to his side. He didn't stop walking, but slowed down a good deal so that he could assess the situation.

"Yes?" His response came out in question form, not only because he was answering her question, but because he wasn't yet privileged to the information regarding how she knew who he was, or why she had been waiting to see him.

"I've been waiting for you. I really need to speak with you." Normally Dr. Reid would stop and take a moment just for her, but he simply did not have time today. There had been an abnormal traffic jam on his way to work and now he was just skidding in by the seat of his pants. He wasn't one to be late.

"I'm actually running late, but if you would like to make an appointment, you can do that at the service desk in the front of the building." Dr. Reid continued to talk, opening up the doors to the building. This did not deter the woman from following, only losing her pace for an instant to go in the door behind him.

"I don't have time to make an appointment, Dr. Reid. This can't wait." Her voice rang a mixture of collective panic. Realizing he was nearing the security check point, he stopped for the first time to face her, wanting only to reiterate his first suggestion. Once he notated her body language, however, he realized that the situation may very well be more urgent than a minute of his time would allow.

"I don't have time to talk to you right now. I'm sorry. But if you go to the service desk and tell them I'm expecting you then they can issue you the proper visitor's pass and clearance into the building. I'll meet you in my office." Dr. Reid found this reasonable, since he was already running late and lacking the authority to present her with the visitor's pass in which she would need to properly enter the federal building. Surely she could wait that long. As soon as he regained his motion toward the security check point, he found that she would not.

"I don't have time for that, either." The woman set her stuff on the xray scanner behind Dr. Reid's bag, turning to the security guard instantly after. "I'm with him." She was relentless, if nothing else.

The security guard caught Dr. Reid's eye, giving a look as if to ask him if this were true, or if he would like her removed from the premises. With a second thought and the knowledge that her body language read only as if this were important, and nothing with malice, he gave in. "She is."

"Thank you." She followed Dr. Reid through the metal detector, picking up her bag again just after his. He was less than thrilled to have an tag along that didn't follow by the rules, but twice as curious as he'd like to admit as to what it was she wanted that could not seem to, at least by her standards, wait.

The notion briefly passed that she was possibly a fan of his, and he knew all too well by now that none of his fans were normal. As much as this may apply to her, she passed the security checkpoint. Unless she was well trained in hand to hand combat, he still figured he stood a fighting chance. Maybe not literally, but he could always yell for someone stronger. A lot of people in this building carried guns.

Even though both were now inside, Dr. Reid knew that he couldn't just allow her to enter the BAU offices without getting her checked in. Now he was really going to be late, and he only hoped that she would be a good enough explanation, one in which Morgan wouldn't feel it necessary to add innuendo to top off an already uncomfortably mysterious situation.

"Now can we talk?" Things were not moving quickly enough. There was no foreplay that needed to be involved for the women, but it threw Dr. Reid off guard. He wanted nothing but a light introduction to lead him to where the situation would go. He needed to go in prepared, rarely footloose enough to cut to the chase.

"I have to get you a visitor's pass first. You're really not supposed to be in here without one, or back in this part of the building at all. I could get in a lot of trouble." Dr. Reid's love affair with following the rules did not irk the woman, and she followed behind him through a door and down a long, closed in hallway with no doors to the right or left. She only wished his lanky legs would pick up from their natural pace. She thrived in diving right in.

At the end of the long corridor was another door welcoming the two into the main entrance of the building. Dr. Reid immediately shot for the desk, his very own identification hanging on the front of his brown sweater vest.

"Hi. I need a visitors pass for her." With the lack of social manners needed for the situation, Dr. Reid pointed to the women next to him, not caring if he interrupted the work the secretary seemed to be doing on her computer. The mysterious woman didn't imagine this was abnormal for him.

"Sure thing, Agent Reid. I'm just going to take down her information..." Having not a minute to spare to deal with his, Dr. Reid cut her off.

"She's with me. She just needs a pass." The secretary opened her mouth to rebuttal, but thought the better of it. If Agent Reid said he knew her, she couldn't argue with that. He had been her for years and was an exemplary agent. The irritation in his voice also warded off all other thoughts of second guessing his normally polite demeanor.

"Sure. If you can just give me her name I'll issue her one right away. I just need it for our database and security purposes." This is where the woman found her place to interject, knowing Dr. Reid was sticking his neck out for her and making a strained process much easier. She didn't need to create a situation that raised any question marks.

"Alona Chressanthis." The secretary's eyes darted from their fixture on Dr. Reid, to the women. She was already suspicious, especially after the direction the pair had entered the lobby of the building from.

"Could you spell that, please?" As Alona did, the secretary's fingers tapped the keyboard cautiously, making sure to notate that the visitor was brought in with Agent Reid. She didn't want to take the downfall if something fishy was going on.

It took mere minutes for the visitor's pass to exchange hands, but those were a few minutes too long for Dr. Reid. Not even seconds after the pass had been handed over, he was on the move again, leaving Alona to stop fiddling with attaching the pass to her shirt and follow him. He retreated the way they had come, going back through the corridor, out the other side, and eventually reaching a set of elevators. He hit the up button. The elevator doors opened nearly immediately to the otherwise empty space, another indication of how late Dr. Reid was running. As they entered, he chose to strike up a conversation, finding that now nothing could make him any later, except the speed of the elevator.

"Alona, I have to ask, how is it that you knew who I was when I approached the building?" Once in the elevator, Dr. Reid pushed the button matching the floor they were going to and didn't bother to move away from the panel.

"You can call me Lo, and I Googled you." Her eyes diverted away from his as she spoke. She knew this wasn't exactly true. He didn't seem to be watching her at that moment, so she could only hope he didn't catch that. He was a profiler, a professional in reading body cues, after all.

"I've never heard the name Alona before. Is that even a real name?" To Dr. Reid, this wasn't an insensitive question. Since Alona had already answered his first question, one in which he had no reason to think twice about, but thought it may cement his initial thought of her being fan, he simply moved on to his next curiosity. He was always finding something to feed his mind with.

"It is if that's what people call me." She laughed, not meaning any sarcasm towards the doctor. "It's actually an old Hebrew name meaning Oak. It's the feminine version of the Hebrew name Alon. Lo is just the shortened version of it." Deep down, Lo was her own kind of profiling nerd. She knew Dr. Reid liked facts, and she liked to tell the ones she had learned to match wits with him. This just seemed like the perfect opportunity to make two worlds collide.

Dr. Reid took a but a second to take it all in. There was something coming over him. He hadn't met anyone quite like her. He could tell after a mere ten minutes of being around her, and her saying that made it even more apparent to him. Lo wasn't insulted, nor was she a sarcastic narcissist. She took the time to laugh it off and explain the name to him, teaching him something new. This was something most couldn't, or wouldn't do.

"Would it be okay if I called you Alona? Lo makes me think of the Biblical relevance of the word, which I doubt is what your parents intended when they named you." This, too, was something that wasn't thought out before said. It was okay by Lo, though, because she had all but expected the unexpected with him.

"Not unless you think I'm my grandmother. It was her name. And, for the record, my mom was the first to call me Lo." There was no way, she thought, that Dr. Reid could have more to say with the facts laid out in front of him. She was about to learn that being wrong sucked a little more than she would have liked it to.

"Do you maybe have a middle name?" She sighed loudly, the mild laughter filled with disbelief in her voice covered by the sound of the elevator door opening. He was definitely everything she was expecting and he didn't disappoint.

"I do." He had only ask if she had one, and she wasn't going to lead him down temptation's road with no way to reverse out of it if she could help it.

"What is it?" Dr. Reid was fully perplexed by her one sided answer. It was human nature for most to give information that wasn't ask, only implied. She was different. She answered only what was asked of her and volunteered nothing. It was her secretness that kept him intrigued.

"Larke, like the bird, but with an e." Through the entryway and into the doors of the BAU offices the pair walked, opening up Lo's world to a place she had went to bed dreaming about. The feeling was surreal, seeing the desks, the people, and absorbing the energy in the room. She had to stop to take it all in, but was left in the proverbial dust of Dr. Reid's haste to make it to his desk a little late, rather than stupendously late.

"Can I call you that, then?" Slightly exasperated by the cat and mouse game of wits that was being played against him, without him being scoffed at and anyone being put off, Dr. Reid tried one more time to find a middle ground that he could wrap his head around.

"Only if you value me as a stripper." Lo answered smoothly, a little smile crossing her face to let him know she was only joking. In reality, the name did remind her of a stripper's name, which is why she dropped letting anyone call her by that, like she used to prefer when she was a child.

"Actually, strippers are usually..." Just when the conversation was heating up, the intrigue finding its way into the minds of the unusual pair, they were interrupted by the sounds of the workday.

"Whoa! Hey now, what is all this talk I hear about strippers? I know she's a beautiful lady, but that's no way to talk in a federal office building." A tall, handsome, well built black man smooth talked his way into the conversation. Lo instantly liked him, seeing his playful nature with Dr. Reid was one similar to her own disposition with him, only with different overtones because of her sex. They were going to get along just fine.

"Morgan, this is Alona. Alona, this is Agent Morgan." In typical Dr. Reid fashion, he ignored Morgan's playful harassment and moved swiftly on with the day, logging himself in on the computer on his desk.

"Lo. I'm still working on him." Lo extended her hand to Morgan and he shook it. Then he chuckled to himself, glancing between Dr. Reid, whose eyes were fully fixed while his one finger typing on the keyboard of his computer, and Alona, who just rolled her eyes playfully.

"I hear that." Reid scoffed to himself, not quite getting the full spectrum of Morgan's laughable cut, but feeling the essence. "Reid, Hotch wants to see you in his office. Something about needing your freaky, inhuman reading skills to go through JJ's case files."

"Excuse me just one minute. Sorry." Dr. Reid started to flit away before Lo had a chance to protest, but she did attempt to call after his fast moving body. Her plea fell on deaf ears. And now, out of all times, he finally decided to walk quickly. Figures, she thought.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess he always runs away from people who tell him they have something important to talk to him about." Her face turned into a half smile, trying to understand how she could have missed the flightiness that was his personality, although she should have really known considering the information she had on him. Rarely do people of his genius function outside of their own realm of thought per the moment. She was but an interruption to that.

"You'll have to excuse him. He doesn't do life outside of work well." This indicated to Lo that Morgan was suggesting something, and it was something she would have to find a way to correct. Luckily, he gave her a segue. "So, how do you know Reid?"

"I don't, really. I just need to talk to him about something, and coincidentally enough, it has everything to do with his work and he's still running from me." Feeling like she stood out standing in the open office, Lo attempted to find a place to sit. Dr. Reid's desk looked like a good place, but she gathered his quarks and thought the better of it.

"Well, if it helps you've got me standing right here and I promise I won't take off on you." Morgan crossed his arms and sat on Dr. Reid's desk. Dang it. Lo wished she would have just done it when she had the chance, but now there was Morgan's rear end, taking up the better part of it and now if she were to try to sit there, too, it would just be awkward.

"I appreciate it, but this is something I can only talk to Dr. Reid about." Lo glanced into the direction where he had gone, being able to see him through the open door of Hotch's office. She smiled a little to herself, hoping Morgan hadn't caught that, but he had.

"It seems like some pretty personal business. And, for the record, you can probably drop the doctor part. I guarantee you it makes him uncomfortable coming out of you." It was clear to the both of them that this phrase held double meaning. Lo wanted nothing but to ignore it, but she knew she had to watch her words and handle it otherwise.

"Will do." She looked to Morgan and gave a little shrug, and then tried to change the subject, making her case seem worse in the process. "You know, he's not exactly what I was expecting."

"Let me guess, you were expecting a well adjusted, older, beefy federal agent with a brooding, sexy side like you see in the movies?" Shaking her head, Lo could do nothing but laugh. She definitely liked Morgan. He, too, was everything she thought he'd be and more.

"No. I was expecting a nerd, complete with a bad hairdo, big black rimmed glasses and a tie over that sweater vest." This time it was Morgan's turn to burst out laughing.

"He ditched two out of the three things a few months ago. He must have forgotten his tie today." Then Reid was everything she had expected, only more grown up, which made sense. Even without the glasses and the hair, she didn't think his tall, slender stature would be so appealing to her.

"Actually, I didn't forget it. I just couldn't find the one that color coordinated with this sweater vest, so I chose not to wear one so that I didn't stand out." Reid had snuck up on them, making his presence known at the side of his own desk. Morgan stood up, anticipating the leering that told him he was sitting on some important paperwork.

"Just a tip, you might not want to say that around pretty girls." Lo turned her head as to not to seem so shy as she blushed a little. What Reid lacked in social graces, Morgan more than made up for.

"Why not?" His face read of total cluelessness. His eyes were emptily curious as to what he said wrong. This time Lo kept her head turned for another reason. It wasn't nice to laugh at someone.

"Because you might insinuate that you bat for the other team." Morgan leaned in and whispered, but it was loud enough for Lo to barely hear. To her, this was like a really great, unscripted comedy show.

"What team? I don't even like football." Morgan and Lo's heads both dropped into their hands at the same time. Lo's because her laughter was increasing and had to be more pointedly stifled, and Morgan in disbelief. It's not like boy genius hadn't been to a baseball game before.

"Oh gees. Kid, you're on your own." Morgan's arm reached out and his hand squeezed Reid's shoulder before pulling away. As he began to walk away, passing Lo, he gave her a few last words, with a smile on his face, too. "It was nice meeting you, Lo. Good luck with that one."

Without a gap of a moment to spare, Reid chimed in. "Morgan! Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Reid put his arms out, defeated, confused and unsure of himself in front of a girl he would have otherwise liked to come across as professional and all knowing in all things of pop culture. Instead, he did the next best thing he knew how to do, which would otherwise be everyone else's worst last ditch idea. "Do you know what he meant?"

Over her laughter, Lo attempted to answer as best and direct as she could. "Um...batting is a baseball reference, but that has nothing to do with that he said. When you bat for the other team it means you're gay."

"Gay? I'm not...why would me explaining my reasoning for not wearing a tie make him think I'm gay?" Befuddled and slightly shaken with the revelation that someone thought he was something he wasn't, mixed with the knowledge that he couldn't wrap his mind around, took him back a few pegs.

"He doesn't. It's just that straight guys normally don't talk about color coordinating their clothing. They usually don't care." It was tough for Lo to keep a straight face. And she hated to admit it, but Reid's naivety for the norm made him appealing to her; sweet and adorable even. Everything she had heard about the kind, gentle, misunderstood person he was had been correct.

"Why not?" Lo had promised herself that if she was going to have to have a meeting with Reid, she was going to give him what most people don't; an explanation for those things he didn't understand. But, quite frankly, she had run out of answers. This was border-lining the age old question of "why is the sky blue?" Honestly, he probably already knew the answer to that, where most others wouldn't. He was in the reverse of common human nature.

"You know what, Dr. Reid, can we just maybe talk about what I came here to talk to you about? It's really important." Lo veered the subject back on course slowly, not wanting to insult him one bit. As much as she could see herself getting mixed up in this pseudo family all too easily, she had to stay right on track with the business at hand; the reason she had flown hundreds of miles to be here.

"Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. I would prefer if you called me Spencer, though. I feel odd, for some reason, about you calling me Dr. Reid. Usually my colleagues are the only ones who call me that. If you're not comfortable with that, you could always call me Agent Reid, but that doesn't sound much better to me. I guess Reid is acceptable, too, but that's really, purely an inter-office reference. So really I'd prefer that you just call me Spencer...if that's okay with you." The real reason for this was that the two were somewhat similar in age, and she was, as he admitted only to himself, very attractive. As much as she seemed to be here for business purposes, he still didn't want her to get used to seeing him as just an FBI agent. Secretly, inside of his very own subconscious, he wanted to be seen as a regular, every day man, and not just for what he did or the quarks he had. And, in all fairness, Morgan had already warned her not to call him Dr. Reid, although she had slipped up by habit, but she didn't suppose Spencer was what he had in mind, either.

"Okay...Spencer it is." She felt eyes on her back and turned around to face Morgan, who was at the desk across from his. Morgan had dropped what he was doing at hearing this, knowing of only a handful of people who were allowed to call him any form of his first name on a regular basis, two being Lila Archer and J.J. And most of which he either was trying to identify with in a work situation involving a victim, or those who with he had some sort of connection that his mind couldn't explain to him. This was looking like the latter. Lo tried to ignore the obvious meaning of his stare and the discomfort in knowing also what it meant, and turned her attention back to Dr. Reid...Reid...Spencer, rather. "Spencer, is there somewhere that we could talk alone?"

It wasn't that Lo wanted to dig the situation further in a hole. In fact, that was the last thing she wanted. But what she wanted more than anything was to talk to Spencer alone, because she knew that's what she, without a doubt, had to do. Once he knew what she had to present him with, he could handle it accordingly from there, but she had to give him a chance to know the situation first. If they were to talk where they were now, word of the it would spread like wildfire before he had a chance to think. The previous moment with Morgan was proof of that.

"I guess we could use JJ's office." That was all he said before removing himself from his desk chair where he had sat just moments earlier in anticipation of getting comfortable for what Lo had to say. She followed behind. Once in the office, Spencer allowing her through the door first, he closed it. Here and now was the moment of truth.

"I got this letter in the mail yesterday. The outside was addressed to me, but the inside to you." Without giving Reid another chance to take off on another tangent or trip to someone else's office for work purposes, she reached in her purse and pulled out the one thing that tied her to the place she was at today. Reid took it from her.

"No return address. Was there anything else with it?" Reid quizzically studied the envelope, not looking at the contents, but for evidence of the sender and the reason for it being sent. He found nothing, but Lo was still glad she brought the envelope.

"No, just the letter. I don't even know how someone got my address. I'm not publicly listed in the phonebook." This was for a reason. Lo did everything she could to keep her personal whereabouts away from the public. She had more enemies than most, but not because she had made them. It was the downfall of her family life.

"There's literally hundreds of ways someone could have gotten it, especially with the internet. The better question is, why you?" Although she knew the answer, she knew that Reid couldn't know that, so she just shrugged. She was a horrible liar, but a simple gesture seemed to placate him. "Have you read it?"

"I have." At this, Reid opened the envelope for himself, unfolding the letter. There wasn't much to go on, seeing as the entire letter had been pasted together from words out of newspapers to make its point. He would have the letter checked for fingerprints, but if someone went to all this trouble to piece together a letter, as opposed to handwriting it where the writing could be matched back to them, or printing it out on a computer knowing the printer could be successfully matched, they were also far too smart to leave them. The only thing more important than the outside of the letter was the words on the inside.

_The moonlight brings forth terror to the dolls who enter the night. The monsters are real. They're alive. They're waiting. They can't be saved. All you can save is her. But it comes at a price. I'll trade your life for hers, and Gideon also dies._

Reid read over it a few times, trying to wrap his mind around it, fear entering his body. The tone of the note was one he knew, the subject, too. But more than that, it played on his own demons. It dredged up a part of his past that he had fought to get over; the loss of Agent Gideon, the only real father figure he had ever known. And now, here it was being played out across the page. Without a doubt the letter was meant for him, and someone had his number. He also knew that the promise in the letter of saving the unidentified her in exchange for him was a lie. With a formidable, old opponent, he knew if they tried to appease the letter writer believing that he could save her, it was likely they would all go down with the night.


	2. Chapter 2

First, I want to take a moment to thank all of you who read and reviewed the story. I'm delighted by you all!

PinkHimeLacus – Thank you for your input and the lovely compliment! I'm glad to share, and I thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts. Although Reid and Lo have a developing relationship, I won't say where it's going to go, but I can promise it will take a twist that you (hopefully) won't see coming.

CtinaLynn – Your reference to Reid...err...Spencer made me smile! Thank you for being such an attentive reader and I hope you enjoy this chapter, too!

Fairytopia – Thank you for really putting time into the review. I did send you a little message regarding my appreciation for it. (I hope you got it. I'm hopeless in learning how to properly use this site.) I was extremely vigilant when writing this chapter to make sure I didn't add anything unnecessary. Although when reading it may seem like I did, I promise that every little detail is part of a mystery surrounding Lo that will soon unravel, and make sense then.

Sue1313 – Bringing Gideon back is something that excites me as well. I wasn't sure if it had been done before, but I knew that I wanted to do it, and exactly how. This chapter will answer what you were hoping for, and I thank you so much for reviewing.

Just a few notes about this chapter before we get started. I realize Lo's in this chapter a lot, but I promise she will not overtake the story. Everything I've put in about her, down to the most blandly minute details, will come in later in the story. It's not put in there to fill space, but to give you little clues to the mystery surrounding her here and there. The way she acts to this chapter, as well as reacts to the situation is all part of a bigger story. So although some parts may seem odd, and at times lengthy and possibly unnecessary, there's a reason for it.

**Chapter 2**

**The Doll Killer**

"Alona, this is SSA Rossi, SSA Hotchner, SSA Prentiss, you've met SSA Morgan, and that's Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia. Guys, this is Alona." Within minutes of reading the letter for himself, Reid had gathered the team in the briefing room. There was no time to waste.

"Lo. I'm still working on him." She thought they had solved this little issue, but apparently only on her end. He surely had his quarks, but she was convinced she could handle whatever he threw at her. The team, however, was another story. She half smiled at them as she stood uncomfortably near Garcia. She felt like she was in a fish tank.

"I fear you will be for awhile." Agent Hotchner threw in his two cents, but not to Reid's liking. He ignored the exchange, frustrated, and carried on with the business at hand.

"The Doll Killer is back." Reid placed a file on the table in front of Agent Rossi, signaling him to look at it and then pass it around. He was leading this case, but, of course, the letter had been addressed to him.

"The Doll Killer?" Prentiss chimed in, unfamiliar with the case. There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice, as if she wasn't sure she had heard him right. It wasn't often killers were given such feminine names. In fact, the BAU never named the killers at all. It gave them too much power, too much of an ego.

"Back in 2004, the team was gravely short handed. At the time, two cases were flagged as urgent, leaving the team with no choice but to split up. Gideon and I headed to Nashville where women were being murdered in a violent fit of rage. By the time we arrived, there were already five murders in various parts of the city. Each woman was between the ages of eighteen and twenty eight, and were murdered during the night. They were all stabbed over ten times. But here's the interesting thing; each had the word doll carved into their chest with the number in the order of which they were killed. The media dubbed the killer The Doll Killer because of this, but we were never sure why the killer used that specific word, however, we believe it was an important factor in the motive since we were unable to find any connection between the girls. If we could have figured that out, we may have been able to solve the case six years ago." A solemn look crossed Reid's face, but only for a moment. He wasn't taught to deal with his emotions, and when they did slip out, he either failed to notice, or became hyper aware of himself and overcorrected. This time was the latter.

"But you weren't able to? It's been six years. How do you know The Doll Killer is back?" Prentiss held the file in her hand, turning it to the side and evaluating the pictures inside, carefully studying the carvings engraved in one woman's chest.

"I don't. At least not for sure. The Nashville Police Department kept the case open and was to let us know if any crimes occurred that fit this pattern, but they haven't. Alona was waiting for me when I got here this morning with this letter. The outside was addressed to her, but it was written to me. It has every indication of being written by The Doll Killer. I had a feeling they'd be back." Reid took the letter from his pocket and handed it to Rossi, also for him to pass around. He seemed apprehensive about sharing it, like it was part of a further string of events that haunted him.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm not part of your team, but why? And it's Lo. Really, _Lo_." It should have been obvious to any profiler that Lo wasn't asking this because she wanted to know, but was asking simply so he would tell the rest of the team all the details so that nothing was skipped, or lost in translation.

"As I said before, the better question is, why did someone send you a letter that was meant for me? Garcia, I need you to contact the Nashville Police Department and ask them if they've had any crimes fitting the modus operandi. Also, search for crimes anywhere the nation that are similar, and then run a background check on _Lo_. You can get any personal information you need from her. No offense to you, Lo, but considering the circumstances we have to analyze every route possible." Lo knew he meant that they had to make sure she wasn't the killer herself, playing a twisted game by hiding in plain sight. She would be offended, but quite frankly, there was nothing normal about the circumstances under which she was brought here.

"I understand. If you give me a piece of paper and a pen I'll write down my information." Hotch was good for the paper, and Rossi for a pen from his shirt pocket. By the time Garcia was able to fish one out from behind her ear, Lo already had her full name and birthdate written on a piece of paper for her. She even added her Social Security number for good measure.

"I think right now it's just important to rule you out as a suspect. However, after Garcia's background check we are going to need to know more intimate information about your life so we can profile why it is that you received this letter." It was a nice twist Reid added, trying to make her feel as if he didn't suspect her for a thing. But even if she checked out, something was off. He could feel it in his gut.

"Reid, I think it's possible you're barking up the wrong tree with her. I doubt she would have hand delivered the letter to you if she were the killer. Unless there is something about the case that you haven't told us, it doesn't fit this unsub. If they consciously managed to evade law enforcement for six years, they wouldn't willingly walk into our offices now. Lo had asked you why you thought The Doll Killer would be back, and you didn't answer her. In order for the team to perform at its best we need all the information about the case. You're the only one who can give it to us." Hotch put Reid back in his place. His years of being a profiler told him that Lo was not the killer, although he agreed that they had to find out why she received the letter. The situation was suspicious, but she was not.

Reid was not a natural born leader, but Hotch had not been the one who had dealt with the case six years before; Reid had, therefore, he was the only one who could give details that were left out of the report and brief the team. Hotch was trying to help him move that along and get him on the right track. He was a smart agent, but often had a one track mind, getting stuck on solving one problem instead of many at once. Some gentility was needed to redirect his downfall.

"The Doll Killer broke pattern after Gideon and I arrived. Along with the two bodies that turned up while we were there, each was riddled with a calling card aimed directly at Gideon. They indicated that Gideon would be murdered if we continued to pursue the case, however, they were unable to follow through. That's also why I'm sure this letter is from the actual Doll Killer and not a copycat. That information was never leaked to the press. I'm just surprised the unsub is threatening me now, too." Reid shifted his weight from one foot to another, uncomfortable with information that he had yet to share. This was a case he had never wanted to revisit as long as he lived, and for more reasons than the pure perilous, psychopathic nature of the opposing unsub.

"So if this is the same killer, what caused them to slip out from under your fingers the first time, and why would they choose now to come back? When most killers make threats toward our agents, they don't back down until we catch them, or them us. It's unusual that an unsub would go silent and then send this letter six years later." Rossi's eyes narrowed, possibly in thought, as he tried to figure out if this was a game, or the case of an overly meticulous mastermind to the likes that the BAU had never seen.

"Not in this case. The unsub didn't exactly back down, but we were forced to. Despite the threats, we continued with the case. The unsub held up to their end of the threat. Gideon was attacked one night. He was awoken in the middle of the night by someone standing over him slapping him in the face. Before he had a chance to react, the unsub put a knife to his throat and forced a neurotoxin down his throat, and then left the room. I happened to be in the adjacent room and heard a disturbance coming from his room, but by the time I got to the hallway no one was there. I knocked on his door and there was no answered. I had a spare key to his room for safety reasons, so I went inside, found him, and called 911. Fortunately for him he got to the hospital in time, but I couldn't say the same for Doll number 8, Sasha Barnes. She was lying in bed next to him with no vitals. After that, the murders went from one every two days, to none over the course of the week. We wanted the unsub caught, but with no suspects and the murders having stopped, we had nowhere else to go with the case. Being shorthanded, we were recalled back to the BAU." Reid collected the case file from Morgan, and then walked to the white board behind him, jotting something down. When he moved, everyone could see that he was merely using chicken scratch to jog his own memory, writing eight names on the board and their corresponding number. It was surprising that, even after six years, he didn't remember those names off of the top of his genius head.

"So what would change that would suddenly make the unsub stop killing, but bring them back now?" Prentiss spoke aloud, running through her own thoughts. It was clear that everyone on the team was stumped by the situation, having it not fit any pattern or compare to any case prior. Some thought out loud, some could do nothing but watch Reid write.

"What haunts me about this case is that, no matter how we profiled the unsub, nothing they did provided us any information regarding their identity. The killings were well calculated, which makes them not only extremely intelligent, but highly dangerous, as well. They managed to not only get in and out of a locked room without leaving any evidence behind, but with a body. And then they managed to incapacitate a Federal Agent. We had initially profiled the unsub to be a white male between the ages of eighteen and twenty eight himself. Although the age range of the girls varied by ten years, their looks did not. Each had dark hair, and were under five feet two inches tall, with a slender build. We hypothesized that the unsub was going after a women that reminded him of a lover who had scorned him. However, Gideon swore that the person in his room that night was a woman, although she didn't speak and he couldn't make out her face in the dark, which brought us back to square one. We know nothing specific about the personal life of the unsub, therefore, we really can't speculate as to why they would suddenly return." Reid stopped writing for a moment, the same look glazing over his eyes that had earlier. Everyone tried to ignore it, pretending they weren't uncomfortable for Reid. The one person who may be needed to solve this case was also the only person who could fill the void that caused the look in Reid's eyes.

"Me again. You know, it's very possible the killer could have been a woman. It would explain why Doll was carved into the chest of each of the victims." Lo may not have been a profiler, and she may not have the professional mannerisms to be a stuffy Federal Agent, but she could figure out that the answer that was staring you right in the face was normally the hardest one to see.

"I don't see the connection." Reid finally laid down the marker in his hand, focusing on what Lo had to say, while dismissing her without yet realizing he had done so.

"I think that she was referring to the victims as her dolls, which would also explain why she was numbering them. She most likely didn't care about who they were and their names, so she objectified them for identity purposes." So noted two pairs of eyes on her. She continued to look straight at Reid, ignoring that people were trying to see right through her, to analyze her and figure her out. She didn't like being profiled, although she had become used to it over the years.

"It doesn't seem likely. They were all found wearing the same thing they were last seen in. If they were her dolls, she would have taken better care of them and kept them to herself for awhile before killing them. She would have wanted to play with them." Just the thought of The Doll Killer being literal took Reid back to a case from last year where a woman did just that; abducted victims and used them as dolls. It just didn't fit this case.

"You're taking that very literally. Have you ever seen the show Keeping Up With the Kardashians?" It was fairly easy to guess Reid wasn't the kind to sit on his couch on a Sunday night with a bowl of popcorn and some chocolate pretzels, and watch as beautiful people argued over things he couldn't even begin to imagine. But Lo was playful and adored pop culture, and she liked to show that when giving examples, or ways to correlate one thought to another. If the person the comparison was meant for didn't get it, someone usually did.

"Who are the Kardashians and why would I want to keep up with them?" Morgan burst out laughing and shook his head. He was able to recapture his composure just as quickly as he lost it.

"Okay, never mind. Let me see how I can put this so you'll understand it." Before Lo had a chance to scan her brain for another, more intellectually suited reference, Prentiss interrupted.

"I think what she's trying to say is that women sometimes refer to their friends as dolls, because many well socialized celebrities, such as the Kardashians, are known for doing it. It's more of a pop-cultural thing. Men don't normally share the same tendency." Prentiss nodded at Lo as if to ask her if that's what she meant. Lo returned the gesture.

"It still doesn't make sense. The word doll is defined as a small figure representing a baby or other human being. Formally, a doll would be an inanimate object, not a human being." Morgan chuckled again. Everyone else stayed steady, except for Prentiss, who simply shook her head. Well, she had tried.

"Let me try this again. Have you ever heard the term all dolled up?" Lo went back in, fighting dictionary definitions with phrases that could also be defined inside that pretty little head of his.

"Yes. I don't get that phrase either." Lo didn't flinch. She had expected that as much as she had expected his familiarity with the phrase. At least this she could explain in terms he would understand.

"Surprising. Anyway, it's an idiom referring to what a women does when she gets all dressed up and does her hair and makeup. She gets all dolled up, as in she pretties herself up. Dolls are picture perfect, maybe representing something that humans strive for deep down, or maybe we're just imitating them." Reid nodded his head so Lo knew they were now speaking the same language. She now had a better feel for how to handle him in the future. He surely was a creature of habit and pattern, unable to variate no matter how hard he tried.

"As much as I appreciate this cultural lesson for Reid, I doubt the explanation is relevant past identifying a palpable reason as to why it would make sense for the killer to be a woman. I think in light of this it would be safe to enter this case with the assumption that the original profile was wrong and we are dealing with a woman." Hotch stepped in, gently displeased with the time that was being wasted. Being the true leader of the team, he had to rein in everyone else, although he was trying to be more forthcoming with compliments where they were due. "That was a good catch, Lo. You're thinking like a profiler."

"Thanks, Aaron." Lo hung her head again, not allowing anyone to catch her eye. She realized what she had said, and quickly worked to correct it. "Sorry. I mean...Agent Hotchner."

This was the first time Reid noticed her behavior, coming out of his own reverie and thoughts to notice her. During introductions he was sure he had not given her Hotch's first name. The rest of the team may not have caught her error, but she surely had and so had he. He shrugged it off, knowing that she had Googled him. If she came that prepared just to speak with him, it wasn't outlandish to think she had Googled the rest of the team. The explanation placated him, but it still didn't sit right.

"Now that we know about the past case and have a new theory to go on, I think we need to shift our focus to the letter. Who is the _her_ that the author of the letter is referring to? If we can figure out who she is, maybe we can figure out who the unsub is. I'm thinking the motive to these killings is personal, and the reason for coming back is as well. Why else would the unsub mention Gideon, and then also suddenly threaten Reid? Given that, there's no real reason for a _her _to be mentioned unless that person held some connection to the unsub. This may be a key to the personal piece of information the case has been waiting for. Maybe our unsub slipped up." Rossi threw in his two cents, possibly answering his own question from earlier to some capacity. It was like piecing together a very intricate puzzle for him.

"If I could exercise my completely non-professional profiling muscles again, I think it's possible that the her is me. I don't want to think that, but why else would I have gotten the letter when it was meant for Spencer? That can't be a coincidence. Someone has to be sending me a message for a reason, and right now it seems plausible to assume I'm the her because of this." Reid hadn't taken his focus off of her since she had spoken last, and now he was even more suspicious as to why she would immediately jump to this conclusion with seemingly no thought at all. He knew he was being silly, that anyone in her position would be frightened and assume the same. It would make sense to her, but he was not on the same train of thought as she or Rossi.

"Even if it does, unlike Rossi, I really don't think the her in the letter is relevant. I think the her is non-existent. Even if I'm wrong and the her is Lo, it's unlikely she would be harmed. The her is most likely nothing but a bargaining chip so the unsub could get what they wanted, which seems to be Gideon and myself, and the author of the letter is bluffing. The her gives the unsub leverage. This is strictly about me, and possibly Gideon, although with him no longer working for the bureau, I doubt how he would be relevant to any of this. With an unsub this well prepared, they would have known Gideon retired. It's possible that's why I am also being threatened now. It's likely Gideon's name is just being used for proof that this is the same unsub." There was a lot of speculation going on in Reid's mind, mostly the kind that allowed him to believe what he wanted to.

He knew that Gideon's name was not just put in the letter for proof, but he also knew this particular unsub would have known Gideon retired, leaving him to wonder what the tie was that bound this all together. Furthermore, the memory of Gideon was far too painful for him to deal with, and the idea of having to see him again after all of this time, after he was the one Gideon left the note for when he departed from the team, was too much for him. His attention would be taken away from the case and he knew it, so all he wanted to do right now was explain Gideon away and throw the case in the direction of the here and now.

"It would be ill advised to rule out the her being a real person. Although the letter being sent to Lo makes no sense now, we may find it to be relevant later. I want us to handle this case assuming the her is real, and further taking on the assumption that the her is Lo, because like it or not, there is a reason she was the one to receive this letter. If she checks out, then we are to keep a close watch on her. With an unsub this violent and calculated, I'm not willing to take any risks." Hotch knew she would check out, but he didn't want to count his chickens blindly. Being that she was the one who received the letter, he was unwilling to let anything happen to Lo. In order to do that, the team had to do something it normally wouldn't unless critical, which was assume something. In this case it was that she was in danger, therefore, they had to not let her out of the sight of the BAU.

"She does check out, Sir. Alona Larke Chressanthis, born in December of 1986. She lives in Viola, Tennessee ,where she is the Chief of Police. She doesn't even have a parking ticket to her name." Garcia returned from her home in front of the computer, interrupting the conversation with words Hotch knew would come. The Chief of Police part, however, surprised him in the same way that he half expected it with her knack for profiling.

"Actually, that's not true. The other day I took a call regarding a goat that was loose in our local market. When I got there, all the meters were taken, so I had to double park. It's still illegal, so I had to write myself a ticket. It just might not be in the system yet. Things move a little slower in Viola." Lo was, when the facts were all presented, honest.

There may be some things that she kept to herself, but she never lied. In situations involving the law, she liked to set the record straight. She knew she was already under scrutiny, despite what Garcia's search had pulled up. If she let something as simple as her having a parking ticket slide under the radar of truth, she knew she was more likely to be discredited for other, larger issues. She didn't need that.

"Well, I'll be...Reid, you may have just met your match with Little Miss Goody Two Shoes over there." Morgan, who had been barely holding it together through this Reid led circus, finally had all he could handle of being quiet, and decided being part of the peanut gallery was more in his favor.

"What do you mean? I never gave myself a parking ticket!" Reid answered exasperated, as if it were ludicrous to think he'd do something as silly as Lo had. Although, if it came down to it, he would have to do the right thing. He was a stickler for the rules, much like Lo herself.

"Kid, you made a cop give me one once." Morgan stretched out his arms, cementing his point.

"But you parked in a handicap spot and you're not handicap. You can't do that!" This was between Reid and Morgan now. In Reid's eyes, no one else was in the room. Enter is one track mind all over again.

"It was the middle of the night and we were in a closed parking lot, working on investigation with the cop who gave me the parking ticket. Not to mention you were riding in the car with me. If you have a problem with where I park when no one else is around, maybe next time you should drive." Morgan was amused the same as he was in disbelief. But he did believe this, and he had walked right into it.

"NO!" The whole team chimed in, making Lo jump. The only person who didn't have anything to say about this was Garcia. It took a moment for everyone to recover from the stereo sound effects before Hotch again attempted to gain control of his team.

"Okay, everyone. Settle down. I don't know why it's so hard for everyone to keep their concentration on this case, but we have to. Lo, I apologize. My team is not normally like this. I know things move a little slower in Tennessee, and I appreciate your outlook and honesty given the situation, but unfortunately it is bringing out a side of my team that is not appropriate for work." Hotch made a mental note to not only heavily, but silently profile her, but also to keep a close eye on her interaction with his team.

She seemed to make the team unusually comfortable and less suspicious than she probably should. Not only that, but she also seemed to have become quite comfortable interjecting herself into their conversations, considering that they were both people she hadn't known a half an hour ago, and technically, her law enforcement superiors. Her reaction didn't seem to settle well with him, and her relationship with Reid was odd, at best. She brought out a side of him that Hotch had rarely seen, maybe only with JJ, of whom he had liked. He wanted to chalk it up to only that, and he would, but he would also assume otherwise until he had proof.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to cause problems. I'm not in Viola anymore. I'll stop interrupting and explaining things to Spencer." Lo felt bad for having brought out what she had in the team.

Hotch just became more curious when he saw her getting away with calling Reid, Spencer directly, on top of referring to him as such earlier. This was also something only JJ got away with, which confirmed that Reid had warmed up unusually quickly to her, and possibly her to him. But why? What was it about her that seemed to enchant all of them? He had to admit even he was taken with her, especially in the way he immediately dismissed her as a suspect, when he knew he should have done otherwise.

"I don't think it's your fault, but I'm just warning everyone that as long as we're working this case, we talk only about this case while on the clock. And if you want to explain things to Reid, it couldn't hurt. Just pull him aside when we're not in the middle of a briefing." Hotch was known for not showing his human side often; even Lo could see this, but he had a soft spot for Reid, feeling that he had to step in and teach him how to deal with his emotions after the kidnapping, and after Gideon left, life.

He wanted to gently put him, as well as everyone else, back in place for the case, while still encouraging the relationship, whatever it may be, that he saw blooming between Reid and Lo. Reid could use a good friend and someone to trust, especially with JJ recently gone, and in the face of a case where he would have to face some of his own demons.

"So...did you find any cases matching The Doll Killer?" Reid didn't like to feel inside out, his feelings on display, in front of anyone, and certainly not his team. That's exactly how he was beginning to feel, realizing he had opened himself up more than intended, so he cut in, aiming the focus back towards the case.

"I found two cases, but there's a twist. I'm not talking a little twist where the killer naturally evolved or anything like that, but a big twist, like there's no bodies. If that wasn't enough for you, I think Hotch is right about Lo being the her. Sorry, Lo." Garcia took her place next to Lo again, making it obvious she was going to become a staple in the room now.

"What makes you believe that?" Reid still held skeptical. Also, being the genius he was, it was rare when he was wrong and he didn't always know how to gracefully handle it, therefore, his words came out harsher than intended. Garcia knew she had enough information to blow his socks right off, though.

"Well, I contacted the Nashville Police Department like you asked. They were actually just getting ready to call us. They received a call early this morning from a Catherine Chressanthis, Lo's mother. She went to get her mail this morning, but instead found an envelope containing the license of two women, Katy Kaurther, 27, and Linsey Versai, 19, and pictures of each of the girls. Both were no longer with us, and had doll carved into their chest with numbers. Katy was number nine and Linsey was number ten. The police assume the killings happened last night, as neither of the girls had been reported missing yet, but they can't be sure. They're working to contact the families as we speak. Also in the envelope was a letter that appears to be written in one, if not both, of the victims' blood. All it said was 'Nine and ten, and all you can save is her. The dolls are mine until you make the trade.' This is when I'm glad I'm not a profiler, because I'm not sure I'd want to understand why that isn't creepy to someone." Reid had his eyes on Garcia, drinking in everything she was saying. But out of the corner of his eye he could see Lo, due to the girls' close proximity to each other. Lo's immediate facial expression was sad, then quickly changed to worry, however, Reid thought she seemed underwhelmed, almost as if she came to expect her family was in danger after receiving the letter.

"Reid, was any identification left on the first eight women?" Hotch hadn't remembered seeing it notated either way in the files. He was too busy focusing on the manner in which they were killed, and the kill itself, not the afterthought.

"There was various forms of identification in their purses, which were found with their bodies. The only purse we didn't find was for Sasha Barnes, but her ID was placed on her body." This was something Reid didn't have to look at the file to know. Some things about this case would permanently be engrained in his brain. Sasha Barnes was one of them.

"Which means the killer wants us to know who these women are, but why?" Rossi was asking most of the questions. His roll in the team was obvious; question everything to solve the puzzle. It was the way he found peace; in finding all the pieces.

"Is it possible that although the killer objectifies their victims by numbering them, they know it's important to the family members of the victims to know what happened to the girls? Openly objectifying a victim by numbering them, and then openly identifying them may be done to cause the family members the maximum amount of pain possible. It lets them know that the victims meant nothing to the killer, yet they still wanted to let the families know the girls were dead simply to torture them. More than that, though, why no bodies this time around? In the six years since this person last killed, is it possible they've found a new way to further add to the pain of the families, and maybe it's not the kill that gets them off, but the overture of pain caused to the ones who loved the victims?" Now Lo took on Rossi's persona of questioning everything. Normally she would do this amongst herself, but since she had a sounding board of professionals, she thought aloud. This rang too much for Reid.

"I'm sorry, but...did you study criminal profiling?" Reid's tone was attempting to incriminate her of something, but he didn't know what just yet.

"No. Never." She answered calmly and truthfully, trying not to elaborate for Reid's sake and make Hotch reel the team back in again. She'd save him the trouble.

"Well, you're freakishly accurate for someone with no prior knowledge for profiling." If Lo thought Reid's last sentence stung, this one stung more as his suspicions about her grew. But again, she resisted the urge to school him in human nature and other things his brain skipped over.

"I have extensive knowledge of profiling, I've just never studied it." In less than a minute, the air in the room had changed and you could cut the tension between Lo and Reid with a knife.

It wasn't Lo that was being defensive; afraid may have been the better word, yet Reid. And worse yet, everyone knew he wouldn't normally react like this unless somewhere deep down he was getting unconsciously close to the person of suspicion. Garcia, noting the awkwardness in the room, decided to do what she could to erase the tension.

"Hold on to your hats for just one minute, because that's not the only difference I found. I referenced the original case with the new information that Nashville PD gave me. Instead of the girls being brunettes, they're both blondes this time around, but both had red clip in extensions in their hair. That's the only differences. Everything else is the same." Garcia took a step back, saying her piece, unaware if it would cause another rift. She didn't want to be in the middle if it did.

"Well, this looks like this is going in a cheery direction." Sarcasm evaded every part of Lo's voice, and not toward Spencer, but toward the fact that the girls, in their own way, looked like her.

Immediately Reid noticed that she seemed less concerned than most others would. She didn't scream, she didn't panic, and she didn't start asking what she was going to do. She just took it. She may have come to accept that she was the target after reading the letter and assuming she was the her inside of it, and had time to come to terms with it, but he still thought there should have been more of a reaction. It was like she had been waiting for everyone else to discover this, but he didn't know why. She wasn't floored; she wasn't shocked.

"Lo, although you received the first letter and your mom the second, along with IDs and pictures of two more victims, I think it's too early for us to safely say that the unsub is targeting you. We'll assume for safety reasons, but there's no other evidence to back that up. Since the girls are still the same height and build and being murdered in the same way, it's highly possible that parts of the killer's taste have changed over the course of six years. The unsub found one girl she liked and chose to repeat the pattern. Without bodies to medically examine, it's impossible to say that the girls weren't dead before you received the letter, and the only reason you received it is because you happen to look like these girls. It's strange, if that's the case, that you would not have been murdered also, which means we need to look into a sexual component to these murders. Maybe the unsub is a lesbian and you spark her interest in a way the other girls didn't. She sees a reason to keep you alive and possibly thinks she's romancing you with the letter to you, and by sending what she did to your mom. It's her way of showing she really cares about you. It doesn't make sense to us, but obviously this person is twisted." It didn't make sense to Lo either, although, from a profiler's point of view, she could see where he would surmise this. The only thing was, she knew better. This wasn't about her, not really, but she was a very real pawn. Technically, both Reid and Hotch had been right.

"Garcia, is my mom okay? If someone is this messed up...they didn't hurt her, did they? And my sister, is she okay?" Worry flushed through Lo's body. She hadn't had time to process everything at first, not while listening to the team shoot ideas back and forth, while coming up with her own. Now she was just sick to her stomach that she could inadvertently cause all of this.

"Yes, Sweetie, your mom is perfectly fine. The police are with her now. They didn't mention anything about your sister, though. I'm sorry, but I can give them a call back and find out, if you would like." Lo just nodded, but before she could get a word out, she was interrupted by another thought brought to you by Hotch.

"Not now. It's imperative that we get to Nashville as soon as possible. Lo, I think it's best if you come with us. There's a reason you were singled out but not murdered by the unsub, so it's best we keep you close with the option to use you as bait if we reach a dead end. As a law enforcement agent yourself, I trust you'll understand where I'm coming from on that, and I also trust that between your skill set and ours you will be safe if it comes to that. Because of your police training, I also believe you could be an asset to this case. Garcia, you'll be coming, too. We need to look into the possibility that we missed something in the first case. If the victims resemble Lo now, coincidentally or not, we need to find out if there was someone who resembled the first eight victims. Maybe that person received a letter, too, but was too afraid to afraid to come forward for whatever reason. I need you to dig deep. Wheels up in an hour."


	3. Chapter 3

_To say an update on this was long past due would be a boldfaced lie. I am truly sorry for the lack of updates. I have been working on this story since the last update in some sense or another. I took some time to work on a side project, The Careful Fearless, to get a better feel for Reid, because I felt as if I wasn't nailing his personality the way I needed to. I wrote and rewrote this chapter more times than I could count, because nothing felt right. I can't post something when I know it isn't right, so I kept going back over this until I had a better gut feeling about it. I hope it was worth the wait. This chapter is also super long, just fair warning. I feel like this story is my baby. I have an intricate plan for it, but there's so many things that could easily mess that up and make the story unbelievable. I am treading lightly, and don't want to put anything out here until I know it's the best I have to give. If it takes me a little longer to update this story than my others, I apologize. The other stories I am doing strictly for fun and am flying by the seat of my pants with them, but I've taken a personal attachment to this one. I just want it to be the best it can be. _

_That being said, I want to thank everyone to who has read this story, reviewed it, and added it to their favorites and story alerts. I am open to any feedback, constructive criticism, and the like. I thank you all for spending some of your time reading this. I said it once, and I'll say it a million more times, you all own my heart._

_Phasha18 – Thanks for the review! Haha, you know I never get sidetracked or anything. (This is a total lie.) You know I just appreciate your review. Thank you for letting me bounce ideas off of you for this! I can't wait to read more of your new, not yet fully constructed story. Muahaha!_

_Sue1313 – Thanks for the review! You are an extremely observant reader, which I completely appreciate. It is readers like you that make me want to work so hard on this, and really carefully iron out the details before I post anything. I think if anyone is going to figure out where this is going, and some of Lo's little mysteries, it's definitely going to be you, and I love that, because it makes me more vigilant on how I write this, and makes me a better writer. I thank you for that._

**Chapter Three**

**An Innocent**

_ Where does the family start? It starts with a young man falling in love with a girl - no superior alternative has yet been found. - Winston Churchill_

The jet had just leveled out post its take off. The team sat silent, which was unusual for them. What was also unusual was having an extra passenger on board, one of which had never been part of their team. Oddly enough, she was the reason they were all quiet. It seemed as if she had a personality that could affect the entire team just by being in a way that they hadn't seen since Agent Gideon left the team.

Maybe it was just the ghost of him that lingered, but Lo was being blamed, because with the letter, she had brought that ghost. With his name being thrown around, the air had changed significantly, and no one knew how far to tip toe around it when it came to Reid, who had been oddly silent since the briefing. Instead of asking Lo a million questions while he directed her through their process of disbanding for a case, he didn't say more than he had to, not even on the car ride to the jet, and neither did Lo. Finally, seeing as there was a case ahead of them that needed more answers than he could find alone, Reid decided to break the silence.

"Lo, I'm going to need to ask you some questions so we can profile you. It could help us find out why you received this letter." Lo looked up from her phone, the one she hadn't put down since the briefing. Her seemingly easy demeanor had also shifted after the briefing, but for her own reasons.

"I know." Lo looked up at Reid, who was sitting across the table from her, like she had just been waiting for him to bring it up. She then looked away from Reid, rummaging through her large purse in search of something to occupy her mind with. From her bag she pulled out a small travel chess set, setting it up in front of her.

"How is it that I tell you I need to profile you, and you pull out a Chess set? With all due respect, you suddenly don't seem to care about the case, a case directly involving not only you, but your family." Just like that, the jet seemed more alive, but the team still felt on edge.

Everyone knew Reid had been permanently scarred by Gideon's departure, and although he had handled the briefing well and had taken charge, having this all thrown back in his face was not easy for him, and he didn't always handle himself with poise when that was the case, often taking his emotions out on the person who forced the thought to be regurgitated. Her pulling out a Chess set only brought up his memory more. It was like she was the traveling essence of what he lost.

"I couldn't be more interested, unfortunately, I also couldn't be more afraid of flying. I just need something to do to keep my mind off my fear of flying, so I play against myself when I travel. It keeps my mind occupied and you can still question me while I do it. Unless any of you want to play, too." She looked up at Reid when she said this. He tried to look away, but he wasn't fast enough. Morgan jumped in, noting how awkward this situation was quickly becoming, not to mention strange.

"It's okay, Lo, you don't want to play with him anyway. He never loses and he's kind of a sore winner, if there is such a thing. Prentiss plays, though." Before anyone had a chance to say anything different, or Prentiss to accept or protest, Lo snickered with a hint of something that seemed like arrogance, but was only confidence.

"Oh, he won't beat me." This lightened the air unintentionally as everyone laughed, Morgan the loudest. She seemed so sure of herself.

"This is going to be a very interesting case." Morgan mumbled, but loud enough for everyone to hear, from his place behind Reid.

"To say the least. There's a lot to hate about Dr. Reid, especially when it comes to strategical games." Prentiss threw in her two cents from vertically across the aisle from Lo.

"Like poker." Rossi spoke up from his place near Morgan.

"Or Go." And Garcia from the window seat next to Reid.

"And especially Chess, but if you think you can beat him, he should take the challenge." Hotch threw in his two cents from his spot next to Lo, hoping Reid would take the bait. There was something different about Lo, and although his instincts told him she was an innocent in all of this, he couldn't place what seemed off. He was hoping that watching the two play may bring out a different side of her that he could profile.

"I don't want to play Chess. I want to ask her some questions so that we can move on with the case." Reid seemed irritated, knocking down her notion to play Chess, instead of allowing her to do as she pleased, as long as she still cooperated. He was being a bit harsh, and it was clear to the team that this case was not going to be easy on anyone's emotions.

"Give her a break, Reid. She just found out her mom received correspondence from a serial killer. She's worried. She probably just wants to take her mind off of the fear until we land and she can make sure her mom is okay." Prentiss felt like the mom of the situation, older and wiser than Garcia. She felt like, if she didn't mediate, she was giving Reid the chance to let his emotions get the best of him, something that J.J. would have normally balanced out for him. Someone had to try to take her place, without making it obvious.

"It's not so much mom. She's been accounted for by the police. I'm worried about my sister, Bristol. Something's wrong, I can just feel it. It should have been Bristol who went to get the mail, and Bristol who called the police, not my mom." There was this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew her sister well enough to know she would never deliberately put her mom in this situation.

"Why would that be?" Reid popped open his briefcase, pulling out some files on the first case, as well as the information Garcia had retrieved during her phone call with the Nashville Police Department.

"Bristol's a saint. She's my mom's caretaker. She's would have never let my mom go outside to get the mail herself. I don't even know how my mom would have figured out how to call the police without her, but if she's the one who called, Bristol couldn't have been there. If she was, she would have done it and she wouldn't have even told my mom what she had found in the mailbox. She would have left the room or went outside. She would have protected her from it." The fact that the police hadn't mentioned Bristol made her sick. She was trying not to think about the significance of this; how she first received a letter, her mom second, and now there was not a mention of her sister to be heard.

"Why is that? And what did you mean when you said Bristol was your mom's caretaker?" Reid flipped through his paperwork violently, like her personal life should be in there somewhere if he just looked hard enough. Paperwork wasn't a computer. It couldn't make information appear.

"My mom isn't well. Before I was born, she was brutally attacked and almost murdered, so Bristol would have made sure she didn't know about what was in the mailbox. What happened to my mom almost ruined her, but then she had me and she was okay for a few years. Eventually, though, things took their toll. She still had nightmares and she couldn't get them to stop. She was afraid of everything, and instead of getting better, despite counseling, it eventually got so bad that it led to her getting divorced. We were alone then, just the three of us. Bristol has dedicated her life to taking care of myself and my mom. When I was old enough, we made an arrangement. I went to college, got a job, and I make the money for the family. My mom comes from old Southern money, so we grew up on that, but it won't sustain us forever. Both of us couldn't work, we couldn't leave Mom alone for any longer than it takes to pick up some groceries, so Bristol stays home with mom because she's used to taking care of her. I could never do what she does. She's so good with my mom. She would have never let my mom wander outside alone. I...I still don't even know how my mom figured out how to call the police." Lo was close to tears, veering off the subject and giving more information than she had to, but all of which Reid could deem useful. Lo was trying to hold herself together and not think the worst. She knew better than that from her job, but it was different when it was your own family.

"Garcia, can you pull up the police report from her mother's attack? I know it was a long time ago, so it may not be electronically filed, but maybe there's something in there that can lead us to figuring out why Lo and her family are being targeted." Lo spent her life avoiding that police report and the gruesome details, although they had threatened to spill out into her life several times. She closed her ears and mind off to anything but the generalized report of it and moved on. This case was going to force her to face demons she didn't even know she had.

"Already on it, Wonder Boy. I may not be able to track a person down mid-flight, but I can still pull case files. The wonders of technology never cease to delight me." Garcia typed away, her hands moving as quickly as her brain. It was amazing how far technology had come, how now you could use the internet thousands of feet off the solidity of the ground and never think a thing of it.

"Thank you. Lo, what else can you tell us about your sister? Anything would be helpful." She took a deep breath, moving her first Chess piece in order to keep her head level and her multiple fears from creeping up on her.

"She's twenty eight. She's smart, and funny, and everyone loves her. She organizes baskets for soldiers overseas through the church, and she wraps the toys from the church toy drive for the kids for Christmas. She says she does it because it's something she can do at home with Mom, something to make Mom feel like an important part of society, but I know she does most of the work because she's just that kind of person. She's about 5'5, naturally blonde, and she and my mom live Franklin, just outside of Nashville. She has no record; she's never done so much as drink because she knew we needed her. She's a saint, just like I said." Hotch suddenly got the same feeling that Lo had been having. Her sister was the perfect victim; easy, and considering the trail of letters left, it would be ignorant to assume her sister was anything but. A trail of letters was enough to bring on a contrary belief.

"While you're at it, Garcia, can you see if there's been a police report filed yet from this morning? See if there's any mention of Bristol in it. If she's the caretaker she should have been interviewed." Hotch's fatherly intuition took over, wanting to find some answers for Lo. It was his way of finding out if Lo's gut feeling had any ground to stand on. If she wasn't mentioned in the report, as far as he was concerned, and with the information given, it would be fair to think her feelings were correct.

"I'm on that, too." Garcia was several steps ahead of them. It didn't take a profiler to listen to the facts and do what she did best; find a way to help someone by giving them answers in the way she knew how.

"Lo, is there any way your mom or your sister could have made any enemies? I'm sorry, but I have to ask." By the time Reid did get around to asking, he had already moved a Chess piece opposite of Lo. She hadn't asked him to. Part of him had done it out of instinct, the other part because he couldn't resist a good game, but the majority of him because somehow he wanted to protect her. It was like he knew she was an innocent party in this, even if his instincts told him something was also off about her.

"No! No way. My mom has problems, but she's harmless. She hardly ever leaves the house. The person who attacked her is dead, so it's not him. Bristol doesn't have time to socialize like any other twenty eight year old; she never has. And everyone who knows her loves her. This wouldn't be about them." She was vehement about this, almost angry, and the way she shoved her chess piece against the board reflected that. If anything, she worried it was about Gideon or herself, and her sister and mom were just innocent collateral. She was afraid of what could happen, what was going to happen, just as much as she was afraid of what already was set in motion.

"Would it be about you, then? You are the Chief of Police. You would have had to have prior law enforcement experience to have gotten that job." Reid countered a chess move, not looking her in the eye when asking this. He was unable, feeling guilty enough that his earlier actions and words made it seem as if he were accusing her. Once he stopped guarding himself so heavily, he began to realize that was all she was trying to do, too. She was acting inconsistent to get through the pain.

"I started out as a police officer for The Nashville Police Department in 2006, after graduating top of my class from the police academy. I'm sure I had a lot of enemies there; I was good at my job, but I didn't work homicides. I basically worked with small time criminals; robbers, loiterers, traffic violators, the boring stuff. But I don't think I could have triggered someone to be angry enough to do something like this. As far as my work in Viola, I've only been there for a few months. Viola's an hour and a half outside of Nashville, and a town with not so much as an infrequent petty theft. No one there would do anything like this. The town is only ninety nine people strong and a lot of them are pretty senile. I have one police officer that works under me and he probably hasn't even noticed I'm gone yet, because he hasn't needed me. It's not a violent town, they're not violent people. I had continued my education past the police academy so I could get a better paying job to take care of my family, which is what qualified me for the job as Chief of Police, and I was the only one that applied, so surely no one I worked with was angry enough to kill to get back at me for beating them out for it. I just thought I'd cover all angles in case you were thinking this could be an inside job." She was thorough, if nothing else. She wanted to convince the team without a fraction of a doubt that she was not the one they should be looking into. She didn't want to waste time now that her mom had been dragged into this, and some way or another, her sister also. When it was about her, it didn't matter as much, but she would lay her life on the line without a second thought to protect her family. She would have rather this been about her, and just her.

"I wasn't, but thank you. How about your dad? Is there anything you can tell me about him?" She couldn't look at Reid to answer this. Instead, she pretended to focus on her next Chess move, although she already knew what she was going to do. She could map out how a game was going to go within minutes, and adjust accordingly without even trying.

"He hasn't been around in awhile." It wasn't a lie exactly; there was so much more to it than that, but she gave him the only answer that mattered. Reid, however, started to get that feeling about her again. She sensed it.

"Lo, anything you don't tell us could set the case back, and Garcia will just end up finding out anyway. Was your father violent in any way?" It took seconds for that feeling to turn, for Reid to watch the way she was avoiding him and make an educated conclusion that abuse was a possible factor, especially considering the family dynamic. Maybe that was the bad vibe, the off feeling he was getting about her.

"What? No! No. He's not like that. You're barking up the wrong tree." Reid watched the way she reacted, seeing that it was almost overdone. She was hiding something, and she picked up on why he would think that. She corrected her reaction, but still left Reid suspicious of what her father had put her through. "Someone would have said something if he was."

"Not necessarily. Garcia, I'm going to need you to check him out, too, just to be on the safe side." This is where Garcia would normally say she was on it, but she had just found portent information that rendered any of Reid's thoughts null and void. They would go on the back burner for now.

"Uh, Sugar, I think we have other things to worry about." She was being ominous, not wanting to give up the information to protect Reid from further hurt. Although her heart was hurting for Lo, it was breaking for how much harder this case was about to become on Reid.

"What do you mean? What did you find?" He stopped dabbling in Chess long enough to focus completely on Garcia. He knew her well enough to know when his full attention was needed.

"Lo's mom's case from 1986 was a BAU case, Gideon's case, to be more specific. Between January and March of 1986, four women were attacked in their home, beaten with whatever was on hand, and then smothered. There were no signs of rape on any of them. Catherine was the only one who lived. The BAU was called in on time to save her. They got to the house while she was being beaten. The unsub wouldn't stop and was shot dead on the spot." The entire team felt the effects of this, and then was hit even harder when they realized the effect this had to have on not only Reid, but Lo. No one spoke, no one moved. Lo hung her head. That was too much information.

"Now we know the connection to Lo and her mother receiving letters mentioning Gideon, however, if the unsub from the original case is dead, then that leaves more questions than answers. Given the new information, it seems as if The Doll Killer is targeting Gideon, and possibly always has been. Reid, I think you're being targeting now because you were working the original Doll Killer case with him. The question is, why target Lo and her mother specifically? What is it about this case that makes the unsub tick? I think we can safely rule out any sexual component to this, however, let's keep it in the back of our minds in case every other road turns up a dead end." It took several minutes for Hotch to regain his composure, but it was his job as the team leader to keep the team from letting their emotions get the best of them, even when he felt they had every right to.

"Why target Gideon period?" This seemed preposterous to Reid. Gideon had made a lot of enemies, this he knew, but anyone who took the time to really get to know him wouldn't want to lay a finger on him.

He also knew that serial killers never cared about the kind of person they were murdering, just that they got the job done, and that's what made him sick. What was worse was that, in his mind, Gideon had just gone from being his mentor to a victim. This case may be too much for him, but he didn't want to think about breaking. He didn't want to become what Gideon did when a case became too heavy, but he suddenly realized for the first time why Gideon left, and what made him do it. That scared him.

"I don't know. Although this is your case, I still think it's best if we start with the current case information and work backwards. If we can find out why the unsub is taunting a past victim of one of Gideon's cases and her family, we may be able to unravel why it is that they are targeting Gideon. Talking to Catherine and Bristol may be the key to doing this. Lo, I see you as only an asset, and any help you are willing to lend the team is well appreciated. We are already one woman down and I think it's possible we are in over our heads with this case. If I can step in as active chief for a moment, Garcia, we're going to need you to work on tracking down Gideon as soon as we hit the ground, and not a moment after. Your goal is that and that alone, until we tell you otherwise. We will work on talking to Catherine and finding Bristol. No one would know more about Catherine's original case than him, and since he was the one who was attacked by The Doll Killer, we need him to join us in this case. I know he made it a point to disappear, but if anyone could find him, it would be you." Hotch hated to bring this up.

He was unsure of the emotional turmoil this was going to put Reid through, and unsure if this could be the thing that finally made him snap. With Reid, he had always worried that it was just a matter of time, considering his family history. He was afraid that bringing back Gideon could cause Reid to lose his head in this case, and maybe for many cases to come, but it had to be done. As the team leader, it was still his job to solve cases and save lives. Unfortunately, that now may come at the known risk of one of his own team members, one of his family.

"Actually, Sir, that's not true." Garcia spoke quickly, not liking to admit defeat, but liking less to admit the next thing she had to.

"What do you mean?" Lo had tuned out the conversation several minutes ago, focusing only on the Chess board. Something about the way she was doing that was causing Reid to do the same, until the two were focused in a battle of board game wits just to keep theirs about them.

"I, uh...I've tried to track Gideon down before, several times, in fact. I know that it's not my place and I'm not really allowed to do that, but I thought that if I could just find Gideon, and I could just get him to talk to Reid, that maybe Reid could have some closure on the situation. I know it was wrong, but he was hurting so badly after Gideon left..." Reid was pulled out of the Chess game, picking up on this and becoming agitated. Having Lo on the plane only added to this. He didn't want her to know about his personal struggles.

"You know, this isn't really about me right now." He snapped a little, trying to reel it in as to show no emotional vulnerability around Lo. He was uncomfortable, though, and he couldn't hide that no matter how hard he tried.

"All I'm saying is that he hid himself well. He literally left no trail for me to follow. I know I am the High Supreme Queen of all things technical, but without credit card receipts, or mortgage documents, rental documents, car loans, or the like, I have no way of finding him. If he's dealing in all cash, or under an assumed name, or if he's just not leaving a paper trail of any kind, I can't find him. And if I can't find him, that's what he has to be doing." Garcia was frustrated, her fingers back to typing away on her computer, even though she knew it was senseless. She had never been outwitted with her computer genius, but Gideon wasn't technically minded, so it was possible he could outwit her by doing just the opposite; not using anything computer traceable at all.

"Garcia, try. We need him." Reid was tuning the conversation out as well as he could, his mind becoming jumbled. It never seemed like Gideon to just disappear the way he did. Maybe from the rest of the team, but not from him. It always bothered him that he never called, and now to find out that he hid himself so well that even Garcia couldn't find him, it almost made the letter he left for him, the one indicating he once cared about Reid, seem like a lie.

"Sir, I will, but I don't think I'm going to be able to. I can't tell you how hard I tried before." There was enough tension in the plane to bring it to the ground. The air was so thick that it was amazing everyone was still breathing. Lo, who still picked up bits and pieces in between her attempted tune out, did the only thing she knew how, and cut in. If there was one thing she was good at, it was making a tense situation awkward, and awkward was always better than tense.

"Checkmate, by the way." She pointed at the board, which instantly broke the tension for the rest of the team, but confused Reid. He hadn't even seen that coming.

"Get the hell out of here." Morgan immediately got up out of his seat, leaning over Reid to see this for himself. "Girl, I like you."

"I'm growing less fond of her by the moment." Morgan chuckled to himself, knowing it was the opposite. Reid liked girls who were the same geeky intellectual as he was. Everyone on the plane knew that, and because Reid knew they knew that, and he had previously gone unbeaten, he decided to be grumpy about this. "You don't seem like a cop, Lo."

"I'd say thank you, but after the first comment I don't know if that's in order. So I'm just going to ask; why not? I'll judge from there." The whole team sat quiet, pretending they weren't listening in on this. Garcia even went as far as to continue to pretend she was still playing around on her computer, but no one was going to miss a moment of this. Lo may not have been deliberately teasing Reid, but that's certainly how it was coming out.

"You seem too...I don't know, human. You don't seem hardened to the job like most cops. The way that you show emotion while talking about this case, and the way you're trying not to break down, regardless of this being your own family, goes against any of the rules and strategies that you would learn in the Academy. Also, you're incredibly brainy for someone who graduated top of their class, meaning you would have also had to endure a plethora of physical challenges to earn that honor. Usually law enforcement agents excel in being either intellectual, or physical, but not both. Take me for example. I was the exception to just about every rule when it came to the physical challenges. In fact, the FBI made provisions that they've never made for any other agent in order to allow me to have this job. I find it hard to believe that someone with your intelligence level and small build would have passed the physical challenges with flying colors. Then there's the way you dress." There wasn't a member of the team who didn't make a face at this one, silently trying to tell Reid that you just don't go there with a woman.

"What's wrong with the way I dress?" Lucky for him, Lo was more amused than angry. Some women would have slapped him and left him wondering what he did wrong.

"Nothing, I like it. I'm just saying that most cops don't wear skirts, especially when coming into an FBI office to appeal to the agents for help. Also, most law enforcement agents would at least try to present themselves in a professional manner by wearing either business minded clothing, or a good suit jacket, as to make a good impression on other law enforcement agents that are their superiors. You're dressed like you're going to the grocery store. Most law enforcement agents want to climb the ladder and impress, not just take the job they're given and accept that as their best. They're competitive but nature. Then there's your hair." This time, the whole team let out different variations of the word "ooh." This time he had done it for sure, and was so oblivious.

"What's wrong with my hair?" Still, Lo entertained him, and, to be fair, herself. This was the most fun she had all week.

"Nothing if you're a civilian, but you should have a more professional look as the Chief of Police. It's a little off-putting." There were no facial expressions this time, and no sounds made by the team. They could only sit back and hold their breath that Lo didn't explode all over him. She didn't seem like the type, but she was under a lot of stress and every women had their breaking point. It was fair that she could only take so much battering.

"So is the fact that your sweater is argyle. But hey, I'm not judging. If I were, I would think you were a stuck up, know-it-all, nerd." Morgan lost it, while the rest of the team was unsure how to act, but guessing his reaction was appropriate. If this was Lo's way of snapping under stress, everything was going to be okay. The case, however, was going to be more interesting than initially thought.

"Hotch, can we keep her? I'll feed her and take care of her and everything." Rossi was the second to break, now that he knew he was free to. Morgan's comment lightened the room.

"I'll think about it. That isn't a no." Hotch showed no emotion, but deep down he was liking the way Lo was developing naturally with the team. He was worried about what kind of behavior this was going to bring about, or how someone could have this much effect on them, but he wasn't going to argue it. He was going to sit back and watch it happen, and then step in where necessary.

"What's wrong with my sweater?" Prentiss and Garcia finally breathed out. It was hard not to when they were all thinking the same thing Lo was, and had been each time a new crop of argyle popped up.

"Nothing, if you want to stay single forever. I would listen to her, Reid." Morgan was sure Lo was going to be his new form of amusement. So far, he could see nothing about her he didn't like, and this was mostly because of the way she handled Reid. His brother from another mother needed someone who could keep up with him and take no offense. She might just be able to put him in his place, while keep him intrigued; something no girl as of yet could do.

"You would look dashing in a button down shirt and a suit jacket." She paused, realizing what she said and that all eyes were on her now. She also realized how that could have been construed, and worked quickly to clear the air of her well meaning comment. "What? He said you should listen to me. I take that as a cue."

"That's another thing about you, you take things very personally, and you're almost blithe when you should be serious. I know this case is fairly personal for you, and that's why you're playing things off they way you are, but your training should indicate that you're a cop first." Morgan had to physically bring his hand over his mouth in order to keep from pointing out that the pot was now calling the kettle black.

"Sorry I'm not a robot. I just like to think outside of the box. When I'm scared, like, really scared like I am right now, I try to shift the weight of it onto other things. There's no reason to bring down the room because I'm having a hard time. It's not who I am or who I was raised to be. I just deal with things differently." There were a lot of things she could take, but she didn't take kindly to having the way she dealt with things scrutinized. If Reid could only see the hell storm going on inside of her, he'd realize she was holding up pretty damn well, and handling things quite gently. Reid finally took notice of how it would have been easier for her to tear him a new one than to stay level headed like she had.

"And that's another thing, you're just really nice. Too nice, almost. And feminine." Reid just kept finding things to point out, getting more and more exuberant about each one. At least this one was a compliment, and mostly only said because, to him, wearing a skirt equaled femininity.

"HEY!" Prentiss reached her hand out, leaning over and slapping Reid playfully on the arm. Morgan reached his hand out to her shoulder, as they both started laughing at the same time.

It was easy to see Reid was connecting with someone and trying to deny himself of it. Lo didn't seem to notice either way, which was how you could tell just how focused she was on the case, although it would almost seem otherwise. Even a blind person could see the chemistry flying through the plane, no pun intended.

"Sorry. I'm just saying that she's more like Garcia, which is fine, except Garcia isn't a cop." Garcia got that smile on her face, the one that immediately indicated she was going to be like everyone's least favorite aunt at a family reunion. True to that, she maneuvered herself so that she was able to pinch his cheeks.

"And I don't want to be one. No offense. And thank you for noticing my loveliness, Darling." She was tickled pink by him right now. In her light and happiness, she liked when someone showed her a compliment or two.

"All right, you know what, I'm just never going to comment on anything not directly involving a case again." Reid was so far past embarrassed at this point, noticing where this was going and what everyone was thinking. He decided he would be better to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the case when it came to anything outside of it, if he wanted to avoid dying from embarrassment before the case was over.

"To be fair, you don't seem like a cop either, Spencer." Lo, recognizing his embarrassment, decided to throw him a bone. She didn't want to worsen the situation.

"Why is that? I think I seem exactly like a law enforcement agent." The team had yet to catch up to that irony of Reid saying that, since he forever had, and always would seem the exact opposite. They remained shocked that she called him Spencer, and that he was letting her. There was no fight there, even in a work environment. "And me being different is different from you being different."

"Why? Because you're somewhat autistic?" Just when everyone thought things couldn't get any more awkward or more difficult, any cute that was once alive in this conversation had its lifeline quickly severed. This did not go unnoticed by Lo. "Ooh, white elephant. If you'll excuse me..."

Lo jumped from her seat, eager to escape the crowd and their maddening silence. She hadn't realized she had said anything wrong when it was coming out of her mouth, or prior to that. She thought this was a documented fact, because if she could see it, surely the rest of the team could. However, by the change in the atmosphere, she knew she had stepped in territory that she had no right to step in. Locking herself in the bathroom was the only viable solution she could think of right now. At least then she'd be alone to recalibrate herself.

"I was going to say, 'because I'm a genius and have doctorates, therefore, I was groomed for this job in a different emotional capacity than everyone else." Once the bathroom door was shut, Reid reacted much more calmly than anyone expected. He was shocked by what she said, so much so that he could only answer with the truth, even though he was mostly just talking to himself. When he got that out and the moment caught up to him, he directed his attention toward Garcia. "Garcia, are you sure you checked her out?"

"Yes, I'm sure." In the time between Lo saying what she had, and Reid asking her that, she had pulled up her file again, the one that was in the system and documented through the law enforcement database, due to her being a cop. She really did check out, just like she had said the first time.

"Could you do it again? Because she seems to be awfully perceptive about the team, and comfortable with us, which I think is where her blithe demeanor is coming from." Reid was beginning to bring up suspicions in everyone now, and she had dug her own grave on that one. Not even they would be bold enough to touch the way Reid was. "In fact, I'm going to go check on her."

He could barely sit there wondering why or how she was able to say what she had. He wanted to approach her head on, to ask her a million more questions, even though he was sure he would come up mostly empty. There was just something about her, something he wanted to figure out, and he couldn't shake that. As he rose from his seat, Prentiss thought it best to stop him.

"Reid, let her go. She's upset right now, and what she said had more to do with finding a way out of feeling cornered with trying to balance the personal aspect of the case, with the professional aspect, than you. You really put her through the wringer. And you're right, she's extremely perceptive, but if you start using that and her emotional state against her, she's going to find a way to use it back at you. Do you remember when you thought your father may have murdered that young boy? You may not have realized you were reacting as emotionally as you were, but I think she's holding up just a bit better than you were, but you can't push her. You can't suspect her. She's clean, and you have to trust Garcia when she says this. And you have to know that we all know the only reason you're cornering her is because this is emotional for you as well. It can't be easy having Gideon brought up..." The confusion inside Reid intensified, and he cut her off before he boiled over, knowing he was riding up on that point, even though Prentiss was right.

"This isn't about me! It's about her! This is her fault!" Without even trying, Reid snapped, his voice raising. This knocked the team back a few pegs. Part of this was because there wasn't one of them that had seen him act like that since he was using, and another part because his emotional state was dwindling quicker than they had expected, and they didn't know how to help him.

"Reid, that's not what I meant..." Prentiss pleaded with him to take a step back from this and stop thinking the way he had just accused her of doing, but he wasn't having it.

"You know, I don't really have to sit here and take this." This time Reid made it the whole way out of his seat, walking back toward the bathroom like he had first attempted to do. Prentiss started to get up, intent on going after him until there was a whole awkward pile of people in the bathroom.

"Take your own advice, Prentiss. There's more going on with either one of them than I think we're privy to understanding right now. They'll work it out." Morgan knew Reid best, and he was convinced that this wasn't just a product of Gideon being brought up, but one of whatever Lo was bringing out inside of him. Apparently, Rossi agreed.

"It's hell getting old, but I do not miss the hormones." Rossi was an observer, silent through most of this, but he almost liked watching Reid become vulnerable enough to be overcome with emotion. It was good to see him act more human, instead of allowing himself to be so guarded.

"I don't understand what's going on here. Why would she say what she did to him?" Prentiss persisted, trying to find one good reason to not get up and go after him, even when she knew Morgan was right.

"Probably because she's right, and being in a room full of profilers, she figured we had called him out on it long ago." Hotch spoke up. He didn't think what Lo had said was all that odd. He thought it was obvious by the way Reid acted that he had autistic tendencies. Lo had also shown strong skills for profiling, and part of that was having a warranted reason to assume the other team members had pointed out those tendencies; that there was no reason for it to be the white elephant, as she had put it.

"Still, it takes a lot of guts." Prentiss knew a thing or two about that, but she still wouldn't touch that subject with a ten foot pole.

"That's something I don't think she has a shortage of." Hotch hadn't thought that for a second.

It took a lot more than the team realized for a women her age to be the Chief of Police in any town, and to take charge of something the way she would surely have to. It took even more for her to hop on a plane in possession of a letter that could stop your blood cold, and handle the situation alone. If he hadn't seen her face as her family was spoken about, he may have believed she was fearless.

A knocking sound on the bathroom door caused a new wave of silence to hit the team, but only briefly. There was no stopping Reid from the path he was on now, but the least they could do was stop talking about him, pretending like he couldn't hear every word they were saying. They changed the subject to anything they could, while Reid's knocking became harder and faster.

"Just a minute." Lo yelled through the door, drying her face off with the hand towel. It took a few times of splashing cold water on it for her to pull herself together, and even still she felt in pieces.

"I'm sorry, but I know you're not back here to go to the bathroom and I need to talk to you." There was nothing soft about the tone in his voice. Annoyed, Lo opened the door, not wanting to hear him complain until she got around to it.

"About what?" She sighed, leaning into the doorway. She just wanted this over with until she could find the proper way to apologize or otherwise deal with what she said.

"Your past relationships." Without a thought as to how this would otherwise seem, Reid shoved through Lo, knocking both her and himself into the bathroom, the door shutting on its own.

"You came back to the bathroom to talk to me about my ex boyfriends?" She hadn't gotten to wipe her face well enough, revealing the red streaks that had formed. It was then that Reid was able to see that she had been crying, and that Prentiss was right. He decided to soften his tone.

"I need to know if anyone you've dated could be responsible for this." She shook her head.

"No." She answered lightly. Reid continued to question her, seeing as he was getting somewhere now that it was just the two of them and he wasn't accusing her, but instead asking based on profiling needs only.

"Are you familiar with the first Doll Killer case at all?" She shook her head again.

"It was before my time. I heard about it, but I don't know the specifics." She kept her voice level, and Reid had no reason to disbelieve any of her previous answers. The next one was a little more tricky, though, and some kind of compassionate instinct set in. He reached out to her, putting his hands on either side of her upper arms.

"Did your dad ever hurt you?" He had her cornered, giving her no choice but to look into his eyes, ones that were filled with nothing but the want for an honest to answer, to not judge her.

"No." She answered this calmly, too, and he could feel her body between his hands. It didn't shake. She didn't seem nervous, but still something felt off.

"Are you lying to me about any of this?" He gave her one more chance, one more opportunity to feel her out, so to speak.

"No." She almost whispered this time, too secure and comfortable with her answers to be lying, although he detected she was keeping something from him. He knew those were two completely different things, and in light of having her calm, cornered and vulnerable, he knew he shouldn't, but he went in for the final blow, hoping to receive an honest answer.

"Why did you refer to me as autistic? I've never been diagnosed, and you haven't known me long enough to judge that." She said nothing. She just watched him long enough to make him uncomfortable. She was unintentionally giving him a dose of his own medicine. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm getting the hint that you're either lying to me about something, or hiding something from me. Are you?"

"Would I tell you if I was? And if I did, would you believe me?" She looked him straight in the eyes when she said this, having no fear about it. Reid almost felt like she was playing a game with him, and wondered why she was.

"Probably not, but I'd like you to at least try and answer me." She studied his face long enough to make his skin crawl with his own insecurities before answering.

"If you're not going to believe me anyway, I'm not going to waste my breath." She watched how he was fighting to take in the information overload, and to figure out how to categorize her. Not wanting to be profiled further, she decided to give over the last bit of sincerity she could spare. "I said what I said so I could have a good reason to escape. I came back here to cry. I didn't know how else to slide out from under your team without them knowing that something was wrong, and without being emotionally profiled. I just needed a break from all this talk about death and my family, and your brutal profiling tactics. Are you happy?"

She took an attitude with him with her last words, but he knew not to take any offense from it. It was just her being her, spouting off with her seemingly fearless attitude to protect her guard. In a lot of ways, she and Reid were one in the same. He could see that now. But he also knew that, in even more ways, they were different. She was more confident, and that confidence and little bit of attitude made up for the part of him that was lacking that.

"You're a spitfire, aren't you?" He finally removed his arms from hers, giving her a chance to breathe. She turned away from him to wipe her eyes before more tears built up, making her next sentence almost ironic.

"And you're a world class interrogator of the mentally fragile, yet I handled you, so I guess you could say that." She turned toward the sink, splashing more cold water on her face, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the close proximity she and Reid were to each other in this tiny airplane restroom.

"I just did." Reid's unexpected antidote broke up some of her own grief, a good step in putting her back on track with the case and the ability to be of some help.

"It's...just an expression." She reached out her arm to him as if she were soothing a child. That's not how she meant it; she wanted it to be a peer to peer trust thing, but that's how it felt to Reid. It did nothing to soothe his suspicions.

"You know what I don't understand? Why everyone feels the need to keep things from me. I'm a grown man. I can handle the truth." She pulled her hand away from him.

"I didn't say I was keeping anything from you, but if I was, I would promise that I would tell you what it was when the case was over and you'd understand why I did what I did." Reid's heart started to beat faster, his brain trying to come to terms with what he was just told. He didn't know how to process this.

"That's the thing, I don't think I would, because I'm sick of this." He wanted to know what it was she was hiding now, and why she was hiding it. He wanted to know why she would say a thing like that, or if she truly was just playing into his worst fears to deflect the attention from herself.

Mostly, he just wanted to know where she came from and how fate ended up bringing her into his life because, for the first time, he didn't know if he was going left or right when it came to someone. He was a profiler. This was not supposed to happen to him. Being a profiler was his way of keeping himself from getting hurt. He was able to figure people out before they had a chance to figure him out. She defied this rule for seemingly no reason that he could readily see.

"You would...you know, if I was hiding anything." She didn't confirm or deny anything, but she did look him in the eye, her voice completely sincere, doing what she had done since the moment she had approached him; bringing more questions than answers.

"Are you?" He didn't expect to get a straight answer because, in her own way, she had already given it. He wanted to be angry, but there was something too sincere about her, and even though something about her didn't feel right, he didn't think it was anything that could be harmful to him, or just as importantly, to the case. He still thought he had the right to know what it was, though.

She shrugged. "You wouldn't believe me if I answered that anyway." And she knew that wasn't a lie. Not even he could argue that, so he did what he did best when he couldn't be right, and changed the subject.

"So why did you refer to me as autistic?" He diverted back to his original question, having not gotten an answer to it in all the mystery behind his poking and prodding at her.

"Because I'm not going to ignore that you most likely are, like you and the rest of the team are choosing to do. I'm also not going to treat you any differently because of it." She was a straight shooter and that scared the life out of Reid, enough that his heart skipped a beat or two.

He, as well as the rest of the team, had good reason to assume she figured this was an open fact in a room of profilers, but she picked up that everyone danced around it. Maybe she did that due to the way everyone reacted when she said it, but Reid recalled when she told him she said what she did as a way out of the room. She had to know the reaction would be the same in order for it to set the team back long enough for her to make her great escape. He never truly believed in psychics before, but he'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't wondering if she was one right now. There was no logical answer he had to any of this, and his brain specialized in finding answers.

"But how do you know I have these tendencies?" He pushed her a little harder, not because he really needed to question it, but for himself. He always thought he had hid it so well, but if she could see it, what could everyone else see about him? What else had he left flapping in the wind for the rest of the team to pick up on?

"I know things." The way she said it was ominous, the pick up in her voice worrying him.

"Great. That's not creepy at all. Have you been stalking me?" The only halfway logical conclusion his brain spit back out at him was that his initial knee jerk reaction to her was correct, and she was a fan of his; a normally abnormal fan. He knew, though, that the letter was too authentic for that to be true. And the way she laughed confirmed this.

"What? No. No offense, but if I haven't had any initiative to stalk Jackson Rathbone yet, I'm not going to stalk you." She laughed again. He took a little offense, thinking she was laughing at him. She wasn't. Instead, she was laughing at how adorable and naive he was without trying. She could see why the team was so obviously protective of him.

"Who's Jackson Rathbone?" She hadn't expected him to get that reference. She had only said it to break up the conversation and divert him from forcing her to play twenty questions. She was good at finding her way around him.

"Exactly." He stared at her, and her at him for a for seconds. It was the battle of the stronger will, nothing ill meant by it. Reid was just trying to figure out how she had him so figured out. He felt naked around her and no amount of clothing was going to change that.

"Excuse me, Reid, Lo, we're about to make our descent. You have to come out of the bathroom now." The team decided to let Rossi handle this, none of them wanting to touch this with a ten foot pole. He also may or may not have been listening from the outside of the door, both for further information for the team, and to further profile exactly what it was about Lo that seemed so familiar, so comfortable, yet none of them could pinpoint.

Without another word, Reid turned and opened the door, both filing out in a row. The team tried to pretend like they didn't want to know what went on in that bathroom, that this wasn't weird and the spotlight wasn't on them, but the two knew better. Lo knew her coming here was a bad idea, but she also knew she had no other choice. She was simply doing what she had been told to do her entire life if danger were to strike. It just so happened, danger also knew the right direction to point her in. And now here she was on a crowded plane, the people on it only making up half the population. It was the ghosts she brought with her and the danger that loomed that filled the space where no human could.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry this chapter took so long. I know I apologize every single time, but I really do feel bad every time it takes me so long to update. I promise I am working as hard as I can on this, but my health is being a little jerk about cooperating. Regardless, I have a little note about this chapter. It was initially supposed to cover a lot more than it does, however, the chapter became so long that I was pretty sure you would all be face down in your computer by the time you were through with the nearly twenty pages. I know this chapter may seem trivial, and because it didn't cover what I had meant for it to cover, I thought about cutting it out. However, I decided not to for a few reasons. One, this chapter clarifies specifically what is wrong with Lo's mom in detail. That is going to be extremely important in the coming chapters. Two, there are a few substantial clues in this chapter as to what it is about her that is suspicious to Reid, and the truth about why he should or should not be. This will also come in handy later when it all comes to together. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and you all own my heart! _

_Phasha18 – Thanks for the review! You're always so cute and nice and you review all my stories, plus put up with me. I'm not paying you enough for that. Oh wait, I'm not paying you at all. *Is ashamed* I'm glad you can picture everything, and I thought the Jackson Rathbone comment was totally warranted since it referenced a previous episode of the show. And Jackson is cute._

_El Neneo – Thanks for the review! I'm super excited that you say awesome things such as wicked. This chapter holds some hints as to what it is she's hiding, but it will come out soon enough. Promise._

**Chapter Four**

**Scarred the Deepest**

"Reid, may I have a word with you for a moment?" Just after arriving in front of the Nashville Police Department and exiting the car, Hotch pulled Reid aside and away from the rest of the team, before entering the building. He motioned for the rest of the team and Lo to continue inside.

"What's up?" Reid could tell by the way Hotch was handling him that whatever Hotch had to say was not something he was going to want to hear.

"I know I put you in charge of this case considering your former familiarity with it, but I would like to revoke that. It's nothing against you, but at the current moment it seems as if we have more than one problem on our hands, and we're going to need to split up in order to tackle this effectively. I would simply like us to partner in leading the team. I'm not demoting your temporary position, or trying to step on your toes." Hotch knew about halfway through the flight that Reid was too emotionally involved to handle this case with the objection it deserved.

Reid was doing an exemplary job, but he was afraid of what it would do to Reid if he continued to let him lead with certain aspects of this case being so close to all the things that scarred Reid the deepest. Not to mention his seemingly unusual relationship with Lo, which was just another thing that could compromise the case, and mean the difference between solving it, or finding out if the her in the letter really was just leverage after it was too late. Those were odds he didn't want to gamble against. He wouldn't risk the possibility of more victims to pad Reid's ego, yet he didn't want to hurt his feelings, which is why he pulled him aside separate from the team.

"It's your team. I don't really get a say in that." Reid was slightly offended, wondering what he had done that had made him unworthy of being able to run the team himself. He knew, however, that he was still a pay grade below Hotch, and had to respect that.

"No, you don't, but I wanted to alert you to my intentions before announcing it to the rest of the team. I'll give you your orders inside, along with the everyone else." Hotch motioned for Reid to follow him, not wanting to waste any more time. He had gotten what he had to say out of the way, and confirmation that Reid understood, which was all he needed.

Hotch and Reid filed in the door of the police station, one after another. The team and Lo were already surrounded by local law enforcement officers, all of them waiting on Hotch's word to continue with the case. He made his presence known, breaking the ice with the locals and beginning to set everything in place.

"Hello. I'm SSA Hotchner. I'm the Unit Chief in charge of the team. In case you haven't met, this is SSA Morgan, SSA Prentiss, SSA Rossi, Dr. Reid, and technical analyst Penelope Garcia. I imagine you already know Miss Chressanthis." She had been hiding between Garcia and Morgan, a tough place to squish between if you knew the relationship between the two. She moved herself forward, sticking out her hand as everyone else had for the men in front of her to shake.

"It's Lo, and they don't, really. A few faces look familiar, but that's about the extent of it. Like I said, I didn't work homicide, but it's nice to meet all of you. I was a police officer for the Nashville Police Department up until a few months ago." Some of the faces looked familiar, but she didn't know their names. They were on completely different floors, doing completely different jobs, and rarely did their paths cross long enough to even say a hello.

"You're the daughter of the woman who received the letter this morning, aren't you? When I talked to your technical analyst earlier, she informed us that a young woman had come in with a letter that indicated the possible return of The Doll Killer. I informed her that we were just about to call in your team, and as we discussed the discovery found by Catherine Chressanthis, we put two and two together and realized her daughter was the one who was sitting in your offices." A middle aged man stepped into the limelight and focused his attention only on Lo, as if he were fascinated by her and the whole situation. He seemed authoritative, as if he were possibly the Agent Hotchner of the locals.

The team was never clear on how Garcia put two and two together and discovered Catherine was Lo's mother, though they assumed it was through Garcia's background check on her. Now, it was suddenly all coming to light. Lo felt defensive because of this, like she was going to be thought of a possible victim's daughter, or, even worse, a possible victim herself.

"I am, but I'm also a law enforcement officer myself, and have been asked to assist with this case. I would prefer if you would please think of me as such, and not as a victim's daughter." Lo wanted that to be clear right about that off the bat. She had several other things to say, but she knew now was not time for her to take charge. It was time for her to sit back and take her cues from Agent Hotchner. She knew that he and his team knew best.

"Will do. In any case, it's nice to meet all of you. And I remember you, Dr. Reid. As for the rest of you, I'm Detective Langston and I worked as the lead detective on the original Doll Killer case. Say, where's Agent, what was his name? Gideon?" The same authoritative man spoke again, confirming everyone's suspicions, but also returning the white elephant to the room. You could nearly spot the horrified looks on everyone's faces as they hoped and prayed this didn't cause Reid to react the way he had on the plane. They had just broke him of that.

"Agent Gideon is no longer with the bureau. Do you have a place where we could set up?" Hotch cut in before Reid had a chance to, inquiring so that they could get started with the case. He was fanning the fire before it ignited. Just call him Smokey the Bear.

"Right through here. We cleared a room for you. We were fully prepared for you this time." As the team made their way to the room, Hotch quickly profiled the detective they were working with, needing to know if he was going to work with them or against them, like some detectives did.

It was easy to tell Detective Langston was eager to please, maybe a little too much so, but he had the best of intentions and was willing to bend to whatever the BAU requested. This case wouldn't turn into a power struggle between the BAU and locals due to that, thankfully. It was lucky for them considering the man resembled a Navy Seal with his large, muscular 6'4 stature and decisively bald head. Sometimes those types of detectives operated like Navy Sergeants, and were the hardest to convince to agree to cooperate.

"Thank you. I would like to get started on this case immediately, but before we do, I would like to ask you about this morning. There should have been a caretaker when you arrived at the Chressanthis house. Her name is Bristol Chressanthis. She is Catherine's oldest daughter and Lo's sister. However, we noticed she wasn't mentioned in the police report, or to Garcia. We were wondering why." Hotch wanted to get that out of the way for not only Lo's sake, but to confirm or deny his own suspicions that Bristol was now a victim of The Doll Killer. Since Lo had received a letter and so had her mother, yet there was nothing addressed to Bristol, it was highly possible that was the case.

"That's simple. There was no one else at the house when we arrived, just Catherine. There was also no indication that there should have been anyone else there. If you don't mind my asking, why exactly would she need a caretaker?" Detective Langston stood in the doorway of the room, watching the team scurry about their business. Lo looked at Hotch for approval to answer this question before receiving it. She knew her place with him.

"She's mentally deficient. She was attacked in 1985 and almost killed. She hasn't been able to be alone for longer than it takes to buy a few groceries since, so my sister devoted her life to making sure she wasn't." Lo was trying not to do what Reid had accused her of doing earlier; get too emotional. If she wanted to prove to Detective Langston that she wasn't a victim and only a law enforcement officer who was here to help, she had to do more than talk the talk.

"Are you sure there was no one else there? Did Catherine say anything about there normally being someone else there, or was Bristol mentioned at all?" Hotch went over this again with the detective, making sure he covered all bases before profiling assumptions.

"It's kind of hard to say. She wasn't happy with our presence, and although she called us, she didn't want to let us in the house or talk to us. She even tried to bite one of our officers and called us intruders. We were unable to get any useful information from her." Lo swallowed hard, struggling to keep her composure. What bothered her most is she knew Reid's eyes were on her, watching her reaction. She would beat it, at least outwardly, but if someone looked in her eyes they would know better.

"I see. Garcia, as soon as you get set up I would like you to start searching for Gideon. Detective Langston, I was hoping you could show myself, Agent Morgan and Agent Rossi information that Catherine Chressanthis received this morning, as well as any other evidence you may have pertaining to the the original case. We would also like to share the letter that Lo brought to our offices this morning, as well as any information we already have with you. We have reason to believe that Agent Gideon may be the true target of The Doll Killer, but we will get to that soon enough. If it would be all right, I'd like to have Miss Chressanthis, Dr. Reid and Agent Prentiss talk to Catherine as soon as possible." Hotch also had his eyes on Lo. He didn't know what to expect out of her quite yet, so he watched her reactions closely. As he had said on the plane, he thought she had no shortage of guts, and he was becoming familiarized with her maturity in handling the cards that life had dealt her.

"Actually, we've been anticipating your arrival, as well as Miss Chressanthis' arrival ever since we were informed you would be coming. We tried to bring her mother to the station for both questioning, and her own safety, but she vehemently refused and began to attempt to harm our officers, as I previously mentioned. In order to prevent further harm to our officers, we decided it best to respect her wishes and leave her there with police detail until Miss Chressanthis arrived, since she would be better equipped to diffuse the situation due to her relationship to Catherine, than we obviously are. She hasn't taken kindly to us being there, and she also doesn't seem to be fully comprehending what is going on, which is why I inquired about her needing a caretaker. It puts this morning's events into a better perspective for us." Lo glanced at Agent Hotchner again, making sure she wasn't about to talk out of turn.

Quite frankly, he was unaware of what he would say to this, which is why he was thankful to have the assistance of Lo. She was the only one who could truly handle the issues regarding her mother properly. There wasn't anyone on the team that wasn't aware of that, and also thankful for it being as they were just told what they were.

"Please, everyone, call me Lo. Miss Chressanthis makes me feel like I'm on a job interview. Anyway, considering the state of my mother's mental health, it's best that you left her at her house. She hasn't been outside of it for years, so it would have done her more harm than good if you had dragged her down here." She paused, unintentionally pulling out the puppy dog face, before turning to speak directly to Hotch. "Agent Hotchner, are we free to go talk to my mom?"

The look she gave him made him see someone's daughter more than a cop. She was worried, unguarded, her gutsy demeanor having disappeared as she spoke to him as if he were a father to her, one she had known if only through stories for a good portion of her life. It was the tone of voice that first made him feel like there was something familiar about her, and that there had been the entire time she had been with the team, but he shook it off, unable to fathom what it may be. He had too many other things that needed his mind's attention to waste it dwelling on a feeling.

"Please do. The sooner you can talk to your mom, the more light we can cast on where your sister may be. As soon as any of you get anything out of her, call us and I'll get a team started on locating Bristol if she hasn't shown up at the house yet." Lo nodded, already running statistics and facts through her head, the ones she had been taught at the academy and grown up with, knowing that although Hotch was acting hopeful, the odds were against them; against Bristol.

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner." She started for the door, Reid and Prentiss behind her, following the earlier orders. Reid made a quick and not so smooth beeline in order to be ahead of her and take charge of this leg of the case, just as Hotch had indicated he would be doing once the team was split.

The car ride was expected to be a somber, quiet one, full of worry and questions that would never be said in order to be fair to Lo. Instead, it turned into the half an hour that almost made Prentiss quit the BAU, or jump out of a moving car. The rest of the team would understand why she had to do what she almost did.

It wasn't five minutes before Reid decided that the silent part of the car ride was optional. It was in his nature, maybe even his DNA, and it was definitely in his undergraduate degree in psychology. He had to understand things before he could attempt to grasp any part of a case. With Lo sitting in the front seat to help Prentiss with directions in case the GPS became unhelpful, as it sometimes did, Reid was none to happy to be shoved in the backseat when he was running this leg of the case, having been pushed out of the front seat by someone who wasn't even part of the team. Prentiss was quick to point out that there was no need to torture Lo with his driving, nor did she feel Lo needed the extra pressure of driving on top of her already dwindling state hope, although she was holding herself together quite well. Fussy, but no more than normal for when Reid didn't get his way, he leaned forward in his seat. Prentiss immediately knew this was going to tank somehow.

"Lo, on the plane you told us why your mom wasn't well, but you didn't really explain what kind of not well she was. I hate to bring this up, but since we are going to see her and to interview her, I think it's important that we know." Reid didn't ask this of Lo, not officially at least. He was asking because he was curious and worried, because he knew what it was like to have a parent who wasn't well. And because he was afraid of how he could react and needed to mentally prepare himself to what he was walking into with a case that hit too close to him. This didn't go unnoticed by Prentiss.

"Reid..." They were at a stoplight, so Prentiss put her hand up, her voice gentle, trying to encourage him to back down. She felt for him, she did, but she knew eventually Lo would be able to take no more. She was only human, and that was enough.

"No, it's fine. He's right, I didn't tell you what exactly she had been diagnosed with, but before I do, I... Look, I don't want to be rude. I don't want to step on anyone's toes, but I have to put my foot down and ask that you guys let me interview my mom in a way that she understands. If the two of you go in there and try to interview her, you're not going to get anywhere. I know how to handle her the best, and I promise that I'll get all the information you need by just talking to her; just talking to my mom as her daughter. Can you understand that, Spencer?" She knew immediately that Prentiss would understand this. She was motherly by nature and everything Lo expected her to be. It was Reid she was worried about. He was possessive of this case, and for good reason, it was personal to him, so she appealed to him only with a silent understanding from Prentiss.

"I think if that's what you think is best, then who am I to argue with that?" Lo nodded, seeing the pain in his eyes that she tried to ignore since she met him, wondering if she knew a little too much about him, or if it was really there. She reached her arm back, putting her hand on his in his forward position.

"Thank you." Prentiss cleared her throat lightly. It wasn't on purpose, but she found herself a little uncomfortable with the chemistry between Reid and Lo.

She could tell they were both unaware of it, Reid too naive to think about it, and Lo merely being a sweet girl in the upheaval of fear and finding someone she could trust. Still, Prentiss felt like she was in their way now that it was only the three of them. Lo heeded this cue nearly immediately, taking her hand away and changing the subject abruptly.

"My mom was first diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She went to counseling while she was pregnant with me, but then she got too busy when I was born, and they had given her medication that seemed to be working just fine, so she stopped going altogether. After awhile, it stopped doing the trick for her. To be fair, I think she was having nightmares and they were too much, because she still has them. They never stopped. The doctors changed her medication until they had her on a cocktail of nearly everything they could possibly mix, but the medications weren't doing what they should have been. She was better, but she still wasn't whole. She couldn't work or take care of us. She would just have these horrible panic attacks, and I just remember how scared she was. I know how scared she's always been, because some of my first memories are of her screaming and crying for help." This time Reid reached forward for her arm, which was rested on the center console to sustain her position as she twisted to face him.

"I'm sorry." Prentiss stayed quiet, watching how Lo was turned in her seat, speaking mostly to Reid. She was there to listen, but there was something about Reid she could tell Lo trusted, like she knew him somehow. And instead of shying away from the nearly crying person, he seemed to be reacting like anyone else would, which was mostly why she stayed quiet and observant. She was surprised how second nature this suddenly was to him, and how out of character.

"Me too." The only reason that Reid had any room to react at all was because Lo had stopped talking, trying to hold back her tears.

This was the first bit of outward emotion Prentiss had seen her exhibit, but she knew by Lo's comfort level when looking at Reid, and with how she worked so hard to hide her crying from Prentiss herself, and the rest of the team, that more happened in that bathroom than she was privy to knowing. Lo struggled to pull herself back together, not wanting to be the weak one in the crowd. She knew better.

"Anyway..." Lo took a deep breath, intent on continuing on with answering what she was asked. "My mom started acting depressed instead of afraid. She wouldn't eat, but she couldn't sleep, and she didn't want to play anymore. Momma used to play with me. We lost our insurance when we girls were left alone, and none of us could drive, but the people at the church felt bad for us, so they helped us take her to counseling and entertain us while she was there, and we made due with the bills. She uh, she didn't come out of it, though. She was ultimately diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder. She doesn't have the psychosis for the most part, but she gets confused easily. I mean, you can ask her questions and she can correctly answer you regarding something, but when she's outside of the house she can't function, she gets really discombobulated, and when she's alone, she gets scared someone's going to break in and hurt her again. She's also not good with authoritative people of which she's not familiar, which is probably why she gave the police such a hard time. The medication keeps her stable as long as she's inside her home with one of us. She's not good with new people, but if you're nice to her and gentle and show her you mean her no harm, she'll fix you something to drink and chat you up all night long and you'd never know there was anything wrong with her. So I guess to answer your question, she's not mental, really. She's not bi-polar or psychotic or whatever you're used to dealing with in your line of work. She's just a heavily scarred woman whose past won't let her go." Reid had to look away from Lo for a moment, knowing the feeling of having a past that knew how to haunt you even when it couldn't possibly linger anymore. Lo looked away from him, too, when he did this, giving him room to feel more comfortable.

"Thank you for telling us that. Even with my degree in psychology and my profiling skills, I couldn't diagnose your mom properly just by talking to her. It's important for us to know the nature of her disorders ahead of time so that we can properly assess and enter the situation with the least amount of upset as possible." Just when Prentiss was falling into a false sense of security about how Reid handled the situation, he had to go and ruin it all over again. "Let me ask you something."

"Oh no, Reid, don't do it." Before he could get his question out, Prentiss verbally cut in, moaning. It was too late, though, because once a thought entered his mind, he went for it, whether he was told otherwise or not.

"Have you ever any issues with anxiety or depression?" Prentiss was mentally kicking Reid, although, being the driver, she was unable to give him the death glare she wanted to. Lo was clearly uncomfortable with the question, and the air changed in the car, although that also went completely unnoticed by Reid.

"No." Lo's answer wasn't harsh or cold, just finite. She was letting go of so much of herself in this case that she was already feeling nearly naked around the team. Her family was her protection, her lifeline, and having them fall apart made her fall apart. She hardly wanted to discuss herself on top of that.

"The reason I ask is because the experience that caused your mom to have PTSD in the first place is an experience that happened just prior to her becoming pregnant with you. To go to counseling while pregnant, she obviously realized early on she was already suffering from it, and she couldn't take medication while pregnant with you. Studies show that PTSD can be passed down genetically in certain situations, as can major depressive disorders, and your situation would qualify. Environment also has a lot to do with these disorders, and since you and your sister were children when her breakdown occurred, add the fact that you both had to take care of her and yourselves, the odds of neither of you having your own issues with anxiety or depression in any form are almost negligent. How about your sister, does she have any of these issues?" Lo stared at Reid for a moment, much like she truly believed he was a genetically engineered alien. It took her brain a few minutes to catch up with everything he had spewed, but once she did, she answered, cautiously, of course. She still wasn't sure she followed all of that. He had said it all too fast.

"No. Bristol is the most even-keeled person I know. I'm more likely to snap than she is." Lo spoke thoughtfully, thinking of all the times when she was young and would take Bristol's things, like all little sisters do, but Bristol never got angry. Now, she took care of their mother and never asked for anything, never expected it, and was always gentle. Lo didn't know if she could be as patient or as kind as her own sister. It saddened her and, at times, made her feel guilty.

"Considering the situation we're in, I find little comfort in that. However, I'd like to think my intuition is right about you and you truly are harmless. Let me ask you this, though. Did your father have any problems with PTSD or depression?" Lo looked away from him, hoping, wishing, and maybe even praying a little that he would stop asking questions about her father. She had indicated to him earlier that she would like him to stop, but clearly it had gone over his head. She figured she would give him the benefit of the doubt one last time and answer him, but if he asked about her father again, she would have to gently find a way to take an appropriate action that he would understand.

"He did, actually. Twice that I'm aware of." She felt eyes on her, so she turned her head, first glancing at Prentiss, then back at Reid, who had his head cocked, staring at her. At first she felt like he was looking right through her, but then he looked down, wrote something on the pad of paper he had pulled from his bag while her head was turned, and went right back to staring at her like she were an exquisite piece of art. "What are you doing?"

"I just don't get it. You're practically an anomaly. You would be the perfect scientific experiment. I would have to make a few phone calls, but I'm willing to bet you that somewhere would pay you to allow them study you. It wouldn't be painful or anything. In fact, it would be the exact opposite. They would merely interview you and take brain wave measurements in intervals. They may even take some blood to test different endocrine levels in order to further monitor various functions that could also affect your mood. It would be fascinating." Lo wanted to tune him out in the middle of the third sentence, but by then she was too intrigued to find out where he was going with this, and how he thought it was okay to say that to someone. By the time he was done, she was frozen in place, one eyebrow arched, trying to think of a comeback.

"You know, I think we may have different definitions of fascinating." Her facial expression still hadn't changed. She had her warnings about Reid, and knew he could be like this, but she liked to live by the school of not believing everything she heard. She'd make a mental note to not be that naive again.

"You'll have to excuse him. He spends a lot of nights home by himself." Prentiss saw Lo's face out of the corner of her eye, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't want to laugh. Instead, she figured it safer to try to remedy the situation.

"That's depressing." Lo's face finally changed to a more somber one. The look she gave Reid made his skin crawl, because she showed an emotion toward him that he had trouble connecting with considering his past. She actually looked like she felt sorry for him, something he found all too hard to swallow.

"It's actually not. I find that I enjoy my time alone." Lo reached out her hand, putting it on his arm so that he heard her, and heard her good, because by the way he was dodging his eyes, she could tell the first part of what he said had been a lie, although the second part was true in its own context.

"Maybe it's not depressing for you, but it's depressing for me. I think that's the saddest thing I've ever heard." She continued to look him in the eyes so intently that he couldn't look away, even though he wanted to. It took him a moment to recover his wits about him, and for a moment, while stopped at another stoplight, Prentiss turned to face the two, getting a glimpse of what could almost seem to a naked eye that someone, a wild card, was connecting with Reid.

"That's a gross overstatement. First, you can't be depressed for someone. And second, for this to be the saddest thing you've ever heard, you would have had to live a near perfect life, because I am happy alone." First he blocked her with his intelligence, putting his guard up, before trying to lie again. Even the team wouldn't touch this one with a ten foot pole, but Lo was a little different. Lo hated lies, especially when someone was lying to themselves. She'd spent enough of her life doing it, and it hurt her to see someone else fall into the same pattern and not even realize it.

"You're also a terrible liar. And as you were saying before, depression can be biological and environmental. Some could argue that if either of those are your reason for depression, the depression isn't really your own, yet the depression of the other person that has worn off on you. From them being depressed, they have therefore made you depressed, but in any other situation you would not have been depressed, meaning they brought on your depression. In which case, are you technically depressed because you're truly depressed, or are you depressed because they're depressed? And if it's the second, by association you would have to be depressed by what has made them depressed to be affected by their depression, instead of your own life events that made you depressed, so you could technically be depressed for someone." Reid's eyes darted all over her face, not settling anywhere. There was an energy inside of him that he wasn't used to feeling. No one went up against him, no one debated anything with him for long, but she was headstrong. She was a kind of different he was unaware existed.

"Actually..." She took her arm off of his, nearly forgetting it was there, and held her finger up to his lips, not touching them, but close enough to cut off what he was saying.

"Huh uh. Think about it." She smiled coyly, shook her head knowing he never would, and pulled her hand back to herself, using it to balance her by setting it on the center console.

"Oh, please don't encourage him." Prentiss doubted Lo would listen to her as she griped, but she could hope. Lo hardly knew what Reid was capable of, but Prentiss did, and she didn't want to get him revved up. It was like neither had heard her, however, because they railroaded right on over her words and kept talking.

"Technically, you're incorrect. You would be depressed because of them, not for them." Lo was deterred not by this, already having her own argument at the tip of her tongue. Prentiss mumbled something to herself, but neither heard it; neither cared.

"But if you didn't care for the person, could you get become depressed from being around them or in their environment? If you didn't care to some extent, you'd be too separated from them to feel their pain, or for their depression to matter to you. Look at it this way, there's thousands of people who work in sanitariums taking care of depressed people on a daily basis, but since these people are not friends, they go home at the end of the day the same non-depressed person they were when they left." She kept staring down Reid, something that he never realized was so disarming when he had done it to others, but was now seeing just how insecure it could make one feel. It told him she was unapologetically taking control of this conversation, something that never happened to him, especially when it came to a good debate.

"If they work there long enough, though, they could easily start coming home depressed." Reid's voice was unnoticeably shaky to anyone who hadn't know him long enough. His argument was simple and said without foundation. He didn't explain why he felt this way, and that was enough to make Prentiss change her mind about this conversation, her ears perking him to listen to Lo make a good argument with him, and see how he would recover. Sue her, she was curious and amused.

"And if they're there long enough, wouldn't they have gotten to know the patients?" Reid became thoughtful for a moment, recovering from his last answer, the weak one. His arguments were rarely weak. In fact, never had they been around his team. He was embarrassed that Prentiss was here to hear it.

"Well, yeah. When we're around anyone long enough our brains create a subconscious attachment to them, whether it's a good or a bad one, it doesn't matter. Your brain starts to recognize those people and create opinions about them subconsciously." Lo knew the theory that you could lead a horse to water, but the pencil must be lead, would present itself with Reid. He would walk himself right into what she was saying, making her point for her, if she let him.

"My point exactly. So if your brain would create a good opinion about someone and they would gradually get worse, or become in greater need of care, seeing them from day to day could upset you to the point of depression. When the person failed to improve, each day and each time you saw them would depress you more, making my point that you can become depressed for someone, even if it's just for their condition." Lo had not gotten fired up or upset at Reid. Instead, her voice and debating skills both played out gently, not even explaining her point of view to him as much as speaking as if this were a casual conversation. She had no want to school him, or make him feel less than, especially with his genius. Though she hadn't know him long, she knew who he was and she wasn't about to tear the only thing he had down; his knowledge and the way he was confident in that.

"I think she has you there." Prentiss, however, had other plans. She was impressed by Lo, a girl who she was skeptical of based on the way she was on the plane, and the way she seemed to fit in with the team, almost as if she knew them. It was hard, however, not to change your mind about someone who could captivate and one up the one and only G-Man.

"No, no she doesn't. Prentiss, back me up here." Reid had his panties in a bundle over this, and it showed. Prentiss tried to regain her composure, not wanting to be the big I told you so of the group.

"Oh look, we're here. Everyone out of the car." Prentiss pulled the car off to the side of the road, their arrival noted by several police units that were parked in nearly every open parking spot on the street, leaving them to park a good block away from the house. As she got out of the car, leaving the pair to continue to debate between themselves, she shook her head, almost laughing, as she mumbled to herself. "I think it's time for a career change."

"I just don't think you're seeing my point!" With nothing else left, Reid should have been forced to lay his armor down, but that wasn't him. He was going to stand up for his side of things even if he had not a leg to stand on.

"I'm seeing your point perfectly, but I don't know that you're seeing mine." Lo, as calm as all get out, opened the door to the SUV, turning her face to exit, and to laugh a little. It was funny to her just how fired up he got when things didn't turn out in his favor, or when someone else may have actually understood more than he was used to.

"No! You're not seeing mine!" He exited the car post Lo, exasperation showing in his voice. His long strides caught up with her quickly, cutting off her childish laughter with his equally childish antics.

"Oh, but I am, which is why I decided to debate this with you. I knew you'd give me a run for my money." She reached her arm over to him, patting his back gently, as if to tell him to calm down. With the road ahead of her looking darker with each step, she was thankful that he was unintentionally amusing her. "When I furthered my education, I took some psychology classes to try to help understand my mom better. It turns out those classes come in handy with criminals, too, but look who I'm telling that to. I did my thesis on exactly what we were just debating. Want to read it?"

"Yeah, I want to read it! Where can I find it?" As if she already knew what his response to that was going to be, she removed her phone from the clip on her pants and began to sift through it.

"Here, hon. It was published in our school's online newspaper and kept up as an example thesis for other students." Once she found the article on the website, she passed the phone to him. As they approached her mom's house, she only hoped the article would keep him busy while she tried to stay stable. She didn't need his knack for profiling or interrupting in this specific situation. It wasn't likely he'd be entertained for long, though, considering how quickly he read.

"Thank you. But let me ask you something..." Lo put up her hand, needing to mentally prepare herself for the situation she was walking into, but not wanting to admit it, wanting only to play it off differently. She thought she had walked him into the perfect situation to get rid of him for a few minutes, and here he was talking again.

"Nope. No. When you started asking about my father, that was the last domino. In fact, I specifically changed the subject to avoid your questions, although you ask very substantial questions, and I appreciate them. I just need to focus on my mom now." Although honest, this only cemented the thought in Reid's mind that there was something up with her father. At best, she had been a victim of his abuse, as far as he could tell. He didn't want to think about the worse end of that, but the way she was presenting secretive about him made it seem to Reid like she was covering something up, even if she knew it wasn't what he thought. She wasn't going to let him think differently, at least not for now.

"What did you just say?" Then it hit him, part of her wording, making him quit reading and stop dead in his tracks. He stopped so abruptly that Lo stopped, too.

"Which part confused you?" She turned, already a few steps ahead of him by the time she realized she had lost him in stride. She tilted her head, not thinking anything she had said would give away what he was just itching to know.

"Nothing confused me, but I'm asking you to repeat what you just said regarding me asking questions about your father." Lo crinkled her face, confused, and rethinking exactly what she said, knowing he'd catch it if it weren't verbatim. She had just said the first thing that came to mind, so it wasn't as if the words were carefully plotted and designed to be remembered.

"That was the last domino?" That was the only thing she could think she had said that may confuse him. From the look on his face, she knew that it had been. She shook her head, feeling better knowing that what she had done was just confuse him and he'd never admit it, or at least that's what she had thought. "What? I was born and raised southern. We say things like that here."

She turned on her heels, walking away from him and toward the stairs to her house, where all her worst fears lay. In her heart she knew what this was and what she was going to find. The only person who may have been more apprehensive about this was Reid, whose mind was racing across something she said, figuring and refiguring Lo, playing back what she had said over and over in his mind, every word of every conversation since they met. If he felt the way he did now, confused and alone in his suspicions of Lo, yet strangely attracted to the familiarity she brought, what he was about to endure inside of that house was going to pray on the worst fears of more than just Lo.


	5. Chapter 5

_Wow! You guys are super amazing! I have no idea what it was about the last chapter that bestowed it with new readers, but I appreciate it so very much. This chapter will begin to set up the future chapters in the story directly involving the case. The little details will be important later. I'm also dealing with some of Reid's demons here. I hope that this comes across the way I want it to and not too cheesy, because when the end comes, the things Lo says and the way she reacts, as well as the issues involving Reid, will become more relevant. I promise there is a specific direction I'm going with this, so please stick with me and I will explain any and all of your questions and concerns as the story goes on. If I do not, shoot me a line and I will make it right. Thank you for reading and you all own my heart. _

_Chrissiemusa – Thanks for the review! I am so glad you found my story and are enjoying it! I appreciate your feedback and your letting me know that you can visualize what is going on, and that I am portraying the characters correctly. I'm always concerned about things like that, and I delighted when readers take the time to let me know that I'm achieving my goals with this story. You taking time out of your day to read and review has made you one of the most awesome people ever. (You were probably one of the most awesome people ever, anyway, so I apologize if this sounded like you weren't awesome before you reviewed.) Thank you so much! _

_Phasha18 – Thanks for the review! I love you and your stories muchly, too! Yes, I made up a word. What of it? _

_El Neneo – Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like that! That's my favorite part, too. Before I even had an idea for the story, I had an idea for Lo and who and what I wanted her to be. Her knowing Reid's weak spots and being able to play off of them, yet do it in a way that teases him and excites him, was something that I knew I wanted for her. Her personality will make more sense a few chapters from now when I start revealing some more about her. _

**Chapter 5**

**Homecoming**

The pair reached the steps to Lo's mom's house, and she continued ahead of Reid, who was still mauling over what it was she had said. He had heard her loud and clear and understood the phrase, but there was something about it that he couldn't quite place, something familiar, and it ate at him. He tried to shake it off, knowing he had a job to do, and he was more than curious to meet Lo's mom. He followed up the stairs after her and into the already open door of the house. He watched as Lo bent down in front of her mom, who was sitting on the couch with a confused look on her face.

"Hi, Momma." Lo's voice changed completely when she addressed her mom. It was soft, sweet, and the southern accent became pronounced. The tone was high, making it ring out like an angel's. Reid pretended to be reading her thesis on her phone, but really he was paying attention to her.

"Lo! There's all these people in my house! They said I'm in danger and they wanted to take me down to the police station! I told them I wasn't going to go anywhere with them, and now they won't leave. Make them leave, baby! Make them leave!" Reid studied Lo's face, noting the obvious discontentment in it, as if she were surprised by her mom's behavior. He watched as her chest rose and fell while she took a few deep breaths, Prentiss standing a few feet away from the scene, giving mother and daughter room to talk.

"It's okay, Momma. Just look at me, Momma. It's okay. I'll make them leave." Reid took his eyes away from reading her thesis again, noticing the way her voice changed for the second time when she said momma. She wasn't using the term to address her mom by, but instead to get her attention.

Prentiss could feel his eyes shifting that way and quickly shot him a look, letting him know he shouldn't get caught staring at Lo and her mom so intently or there would be heck to pay later. He shifted his eyes back to Lo's thesis, but made a conscious effort to pay attention to what was going on, to profile without being so obvious in Lo's time of need. Prentiss, however, had things under control.

"Gentleman, I thank you for being here, but I've got this handled. I'm her daughter, Lo, and I'm going to take over questioning her. I, too, am a law enforcement officer." Lo reached into her bag, pulling out her badge that she had kept with her the entire time, knowing she'd need it. The cops just looked at her as if to say she had no jurisdiction here; that they didn't care who she was. One thing became obvious to both Prentiss and Reid, and that was that Lo had some balls, even more so than originally thought. There was just something about her.

"We're FBI agents. She's with us. If you could please wait outside until we make a further decision regarding the situation, we would appreciate it." No one moved for Lo, but when Prentiss showed her badge and prompted Reid to show his, they rolled out of the house, shutting the door behind them, but congregating on the porch. Prentiss knew it wasn't often that police liked the FBI tramping all over their investigation, but she also wasn't going to take any sass from them.

"Thank you." Lo nodded her head at Prentiss and shot a quick look toward Reid. He pretended not to be paying attention. Lo smiled to herself and then turned to her mom, trying to clear up any confusion and make her feel comfortable. "Momma, these are my friends. This is Agent Prentiss, and the antisocial one reading my thesis on my phone is Dr. Spencer Reid. They're from the FBI. They worked with Agent Gideon."

She brought up the one person her mom would never forget, the one who saved her life and made her feel safe when she needed it the most. This was her way of letting her mom know that the people still in the house were good people, trustworthy ones, and they weren't here to scare her like the cops had. She was trying everything to get her mom to put two and two together in the best way she could understand. This did not go unnoticed by either of the team members.

"You can call me Emily." Prentiss moved forward slowly, extending her hand toward Catherine. She took it, careful, unsure, and shook it once before dropping it and turning her head to Reid.

"What about him? What can I call him?" Her mom's focus couldn't stay in one place for any moment of time, and Reid was already calculating how the person in front of him did not sound like the person Lo had described in the car. Still, he kept his head toward Lo's phone, pretending he was concentrating on her thesis, which he partially was, but his genius mind could do more than one thing at a time.

"Oh no, Momma, don't encourage him. Once he starts talking, you'll never get him to stop, and I really need to talk to you about something." She looked up at Reid at the same time Prentiss did, noting how he was looking up at her, his face carrying a look of offense, but both girls knew he liked being picked on just a little. "First of all, are you okay? Are you hurt in any way?"

"No, baby, I'm fine, but I don't like all those men I don't know being here, and they tried to take me somewhere. I don't know them. I don't want to go anywhere with them." Reid found a way to watch Lo out of the corner of his eye, shifting himself just so. He could tell she was on the verge of panicking, her, too, noticing that her mom seemed to know where the police wanted to take her earlier, but now was repeating her earlier distain, seeming suddenly confused as to the circumstances in front of her.

"I know, Momma, and you don't have to. I'm here now, okay? But Momma, where's Bristol?" Lo trooped it out, trying to be a cop before a daughter, asking the questions everyone had needed to know, but no one was able to get out of her.

"I don't know. How am I supposed to know that? She went out last night to pick me up some milk and she never came back." Catherine sounded more upset than anything, and Lo felt like someone had shot her straight through the heart. She knew what had happened, why her sister hadn't come back. She felt it before, but now she was sure.

"All right, Momma. When was the last time you took your medication?" The only thing keeping Lo's head level right now was knowing what a great caretaker Bristol had always been to her mom, and that she, too, had to step up to the plate.

"Before Bristol left me." It calmed her knowing her mother's erratic behavior was from the lack of medication, and not the downfall she had feared would be her mom's fate in the coming years.

"All right, Momma, let's get you your medication and you can tell me about this morning, okay?" Lo had to turn from her mom when she said the second part, knowing that was the last thing her mom wanted to discuss, and the last thing she wanted to discuss with her.

"I did what I was supposed to do. Why do people keep asking me questions? Why am I in trouble?" Lo had made her way into the kitchen and began to get out a cup and some ice for her mom's water, when she stopped cold in her tracks, looking up at her mom. Reid and Prentiss did the same.

"You're not in trouble, Momma. What do you mean you did what you were supposed to do?" Lo shifted from one foot to the other. Prentiss took a moment to sit down on the chair adjacent from Catherine, hoping to make herself look less threatening. Reid finished up reading Lo's thesis, but stood awkwardly where he was, to no surprise to anyone.

"When I found that awful stuff in the mailbox, there was a paper that said to call the phone number that was on it and tell them what I found. I called the phone number and the police showed up. I did what it said to do and now the police are here." Lo was the only one in the room who understood her mom's mind, and still she was having trouble making heads or tails out of what was going on, or her mom's logic in this situation. She tried to remember the golden rule, that she was here as a cop first, and hold a poker face, but she was terrified. Truth be told, had the FBI not been standing in the room, she may have found herself broken.

"Did you give that paper to the police, Momma?" She hadn't remembered anyone saying anything about there being a paper with a phone number or instructions on it, a phone number that obviously had been the number for the police. She was scared, but not for herself. She knew now that her family was definitely being targeted and there was no way to explain that away, not anymore.

"No. It's my paper. It had my name on it and they can't have it." Lo was taken aback by this. Her mom could be a tough old bird, but she usually didn't argue about things or become possessive. It was likely it was due to her missing two doses of medication, one before bed last night and one this morning, but it still didn't sit well with Lo, so she tried again.

"Okay, but can you show it to me, Momma?" Her mom nodded, looking older and more frail than Lo had remembered.

It had, admittedly, been longer than she would have liked since she had seen her mom, and she blamed her new job. Maybe she had missed life changes as the time went by. Maybe she was a bad daughter. But she'd never really know if it was that or something was wrong. She surely wasn't Bristol, and man did she need her right now.

"It's in my room by my phone. You go get it." Lo needed to go in there to get her medication anyway, so she left the room, if just for a second, retrieving what she had to. When she came out, however, her focus quickly switched from the note, to her mom's well being.

"Momma, why are your pills different?" She walked with the needed pills and their bottles, along with the note in her hand, over to her mom on the couch. She sat the things down on the coffee table, and Prentiss politely got up and grabbed the water off of the kitchen counter for her. "Thank you, Prentiss."

"Bristol made me go to the doctor. She said I was acting funny and my pills weren't working right. They gave me new ones." Lo wanted to be mad at her sister for not keeping her in the loop regarding her mom's life, like she used to. But now that she didn't come home and check on her mom and sister every night after work, now that she wasn't there all the time, she knew the only person she could be mad at was herself.

"Momma, why didn't Bristol tell me this? She knows she's supposed to tell me when you go to the doctor." Lo was trying not to take this out on her mom, especially not with other people in the room, and when this was not the focus of the reason they were there. Prentiss and Reid both respected the situation and gave her space.

"She said that you were very busy with your new job and she didn't want to bother you with something she had under control. Momma is so proud of you, baby girl." Her mom reached her hand to Lo's, and she took it, squeezing it lightly. Lo missed this, and she wondered everyday if her strive to make a better life for herself and her family hadn't taken her too far from them.

"Thank you, Momma." Reid took this moment of sweetness to sneak his hand in and steal the paper written to her mom off of the coffee table. He was curious to see it, and in no way could see how this was intrusive.

"No one said you could have that! Didn't your momma teach you any manners?" Catherine barked, trying to reach for her paper, only to have Lo put the pills and drink in her hand instead, trying to keep her from grabbing Reid in the process.

At the same time as Lo sarcastically answered her mother's glower with a finite, mouth shutting, "no," Prentiss rang in with a "not likely." Reid just glared at the two of them, offended considering his life situation, but neither really seemed to care, even Prentiss, who was aware of his childhood plight. Sometimes he had no concept of how to be a real boy.

"I hate doctors." Catherine mumbled as she threw her pills in her mouth, drinking in some water and swallowing them all in one go. She was far too used to this routine.

"Momma, he's not a real doctor. He's an FBI agent who has degrees in... You know what, that's not important. Just apologize to her, Spencer, so we can move on." Lo knew her mom was going to bring this back up as soon as she adjusted herself from swallowing her pills. The last thing she needed was a conversation reminiscent of the one she had with Reid in the car, defenses up across the board, so she decided to extinguish the pending fire before it had a chance to start.

"Why should I apologize for doing my job?" He was truly baffled. He understood being reprimanded when it was deserved, but this seemed ill willed, as he felt like he was the only one trying to get to the bottom of the case.

"Reid, may I talk to over here for a second?" In an attempt to break things up and make sure Lo was able to properly take care of her mom with the least amount of stress as possible, Prentiss decided it was time to remove Reid from the equation. This was a tough enough situation without his help. She removed herself from the chair and inched closer to Reid, trying to shoo him for the door.

"Just hold on one minute. I'm in the middle of something." Reid's voice was indignant as he looked at Prentiss, and then turned his attention back to Lo, showing a slight disgust that he had been interrupted in such a crucial moment. "Why should I apologize?"

"Now, Reid." Prentiss gently reached over and pulled on Reid's shirt, getting his attention and forcing him to move outside. They left the door open in case Lo needed them, but gave her a moment of privacy. Reid didn't like this at all, but Prentiss felt she had no other choice.

"You know, I really don't appreciate being dragged out of someone's house and condescended as if I were a child." They were near the staircase of the porch, just out of earshot from the scene going on inside, however, they could still see Lo and her mother, when Reid spoke. He was in a huff, angry Prentiss had embarrassed him in front of Lo. She caught that, but she didn't know what else to do but give her some breathing room like she had requested they do in the car.

"Then you shouldn't act like one." Prentiss' voice was soft, not wanting to further upset Reid. She just wanted to get the point across.

"I don't see how I was the problem here." Reid's lack of social graces rarely interfered with a case. This was further proof to her about his comfort level with Lo, and the odd connection they seemed to be forming without noticing it, whether it be romantic or not. Time would tell.

"Reid, let's recap the situation, shall we? Lo's mom has mental deficiencies, hasn't had her medication since yesterday, and has suffered a traumatic experience on top of it. Her daughter, who is also her caretaker, is missing. On the same note, Lo's sister is missing, her mom received a letter from a killer, as did she, and she's trying to hold it all together and forgo her own emotions in order to help with this case. Then there you are intruding and sticking your hands where they don't belong. Sometimes you have to learn to sit back and let others deal with things." Prentiss tried to calm him, to get through to him that just because they were not in the house, that did not mean they weren't doing their job. They were doing that instead, by being outside, as they were now. They had come here to get the maximum amount of information from Catherine that they could, and as long as they were in there disrupting her comfort zone, they were interfering with the investigation as opposed to helping.

"But we're the FBI. We're supposed to stick our hands where they don't belong." Reid shot back at her a little more harshly than he meant to. Sometimes he thought being in the FBI gave him carte blanche to do anything he liked, as long as it pertained to the case or the people involved.

"Not always, Reid. Sometimes our job as profilers is just to observe. Since you're not good at doing that, which landed us out here, let's review the information we have and try to work on the case that way." They had learned quite a bit in the house with Lo and her mom, including that their worst fears were confirmed. Now, away from Lo, would be the best time to speak of those worst fears so that they could sugarcoat it for her later, although Prentiss doubted she would buy it.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that Bristol has definitely been taken. However, I find myself confused all over again as to who the unsub is really targeting. Part of me thinks Gideon, and possibly myself, considering the contents of the letters that Lo and Catherine received. But we can't pass up that the first letter itself, and perhaps the second, was addressed to me, yet the unsub chose to make sure that a victim Gideon formerly saved, as well as her daughter, received the letters, instead of sending them directly to me at the BAU. Lo received the first letter with only a threat, but no proof that anyone had been killed. Add that to the fact that less than twenty four later, the unsub murders two people closely resembling Lo and chooses to announce it her mom before the police, therefore toying with her family. Because of this, I think it's safe to say the unsub has been watching Lo's family for some reason, and specifically targeting them. I think they took and murdered girls resembling Lo explicitly to scare her, but I don't know why. Due to that, I would guess this is more about Lo than her family for her to have received the first letter and the unsub to have evolved from it. If that's the case, I wonder what made them escalate to taking her sister, though. What reason would the unsub have to keep her alive and scared, but to torture others around her?" Reid wasn't done talking yet, however, he was interrupted when Lo stepped out of the doorway and onto the porch to join the two.

"The unsub has been watching us. The letter that was left exclusively for my mom gives her directions on how to call the police. Someone would have had to know about her disabilities, and that she wouldn't be able to figure out how to do it on her own, to have left the letter. It's also like the one I received, the words pasted from the newspaper, and not written in the victims' blood like the other letter she also received, which leads me to believe her letter was premeditated and done prior to the killings. After the unsub killed the two girls, they were desperate to announce it, writing out the letter for the police in any way they could that wouldn't allow for them to be identified, instead of taking the time needed to paste one together. Also, I saw my sister's car in the driveway when we approached the house. There's a convenience store about two blocks in the opposite direction from where we came in. If Bristol was just going to get milk, that's where she would have gone. The unsub was probably watching her, waiting for her to leave the house and not get into the car, so that they could grab her at night under the cover of the tree lined sidewalks, where no one would see it happen. My mom goes through a gallon of milk every couple of days, so if the unsub had been watching her for awhile, they'd know her pattern, and know she visited that convenience store often, mostly in the evenings when my mom was watching her programs and needed less attention. And just in case you're wondering, I think I'm the target, too. Bristol didn't have any red in her hair like me, and it's hard to pass up that the victims did." Lo handed the letter to Reid first, a sign of good faith toward him. She wanted to let him know she wasn't upset about him grabbing for the letter off of the table, and she hadn't meant to be rude toward him when asking him to apologize. It was just something she had to do to expedite getting information from her mom.

"Thank you." Reid began to inspect the letter, but continued with his thought as if he were only talking to Prentiss and Lo wasn't standing right there. "If the unsub wanted Lo, why didn't they take her? Why take her sister and leave a letter for she and her mom? They had every opportunity to take her when leaving the letter. There was no postage on her letter, and I'm willing to bet you if we call Hotch, we'll find out there was no postage on her mom's letter either, meaning they were dropped off. Actually, I'm going to go ahead and do that. Here."

Reid handed the letter over to Prentiss so that she could inspect it herself, and Lo's phone back to her, stepping off the porch and down into the yard where he had some privacy to make his phone call. Taking out his phone, he dialed the number. He wanted Hotch to know that he had sent the right person to run this leg of the investigation. He wanted to prove himself. He'd just never admit it. He was trying to get his thoughts in order when a strong "Hello" rang through the other side of the receiver.

"Hotch, Bristol is missing, confirming our suspicions. Catherine said she hasn't seen her since last night. Also, we know that that the unsub is watching the family, because Catherine received a letter addressed specifically to her, pieced together with words from a newspaper like Lo's was, with directions on how to call the police, meaning the unsub had to have known she wouldn't be able to do it without instruction. What I need to know is if there was any postage on the letter that was addressed to Catherine. Also, I need to know if the other letter she received was addressed to me like the one Lo received was." Reid's mind was working as fast as he was talking, trying to make sure he covered all bases in one go, and also caught Hotch up to their current knowledge.

"No to both. Did you expect there to be postage on the letter?" Hotch had spent the last ninety minutes profiling the letter that Catherine had received, as well as the files from the previous Doll Killer case, while waiting for the victims' families to arrive at the police station.

"No, I didn't, actually, but I wanted to make sure. I'm trying to make sense of this. I don't understand who the unsub is targeting. The letters say Gideon and possibly myself, but the actions say Lo and her family, especially with the disappearance of Bristol. However, the first letter was addressed to me, whereas the second one wasn't addressed to anyone, like the unsub knew we'd be coming and know who it was for. I think the lack of postage proves positive that someone was watching her family. They had to drop letters off when the knew no one was there for them to get caught." Reid surveyed the property as he spoke, trying to gauge how hard it would be for someone to stick a letter in the mailbox with no one seeing. The house was in the suburbs, but the houses were far enough apart, and trees lined the sidewalks and the yards, making it extremely possible if done at a time when no one was coming or going. This was another thing the unsub would have had to know.

"I'm inclined to agree with you. For now, let's assume all of you are targets so that we have all aspects of this covered until we can learn more about our unsub. How are Catherine and Lo doing?" Hotch was concerned sending Lo to interview her own mother as if she were a victim. He briefly thought about sending someone else instead and leaving her at the police station, but he knew Lo was needed there after hearing Detective Langston recant the tales of whoa his officers had endured with her.

"Honestly, Catherine is worse than I expected from what Lo had told me about her. By the way Lo is acting, I think her mom is worse than she expected her to be, too. She's keeping it together pretty well, though." He looked up to the porch where Prentiss and Lo were conversing. Neither seemed particularly enthusiastic, and from what he could tell, they were discussing the letter, but Lo showed no signs of breaking anytime soon, just worry.

He gave her a lot of credit, because he knew he would be unable to do the same if in her shoes. He had tried with his own mother before on a case that came early in his career. He panicked and he knew it showed. He tried to hold it together in front of his mom, but things became personal for him and the whole team saw it. For whatever reason, Lo held it together a little better than he had been able to. It was yet another thing he would not admit. This case seemed to be dredging up all of his worst demons and shortcomings.

"That's all we can ask. With more facts in place, I think it would be ill thought out to not move to protect Catherine. Given the current situation and your familiarity with the previous case, I need to know what your suggestion would be concerning how we could most effectively do that. You know this unsub better than the rest of us." Hotch knew that Reid was the correct person to put in charge of the safety of the possible victims, since he knew the most. The sooner Catherine was secure, the sooner all hands would be on deck to catch a killer.

"Maybe, but they've gone off the grid now. I no longer know what to expect from them, except that they are still extremely well calculated, maybe even more prepared than they were the first time. This only makes them more dangerous and unpredictable. I think it would be a poor decision on our end to leave Catherine at the house without police detail, but with an unsub who is plotting every move, as this one is, I don't know if it would even be safe for her to be there at all. We already know she's not going to let the police inside of the house with her, but with the way she's acting, I'm unsure even Lo would be able to convince her to come to the police station. We could maybe move her to a hotel, but it's likely the unsub would know, and we may not be able to protect her in a place where that many people come and go daily. We could leave Lo with her, but I'm concerned we're going to need her in the field if our suspicions are validated. She may be the only one who can figure out the puzzle piece we're missing, and also give us personal information about her family that we couldn't get from Garcia. You know as well as I do that any little detail could be the one thing we need to know to solve this. If that's the case, she needs to be directly involved in every step of the case." There was the option to keep another agent there with Lo, but they couldn't spare the manpower, especially when it was unlikely Lo would let them work on the case in front of her mom.

Without JJ, sparing Lo would be difficult enough, and she was far from having the training it took to be an FBI agent. She was smart, though, and willing and able to help, which was all they could ask. She also blended with the team well, if not a little too easily. Reid shut that thought out of his mind immediately, not wanting to get ambushed by it for times uncountable that day.

"Reid, I need to ask you something and I need you to answer this based on the behavior you have witnessed, and not on your own personal feelings. Do you feel that Catherine is well enough to be alone in that house without someone to assist in her care?" Hotch tried to feel out the situation, having had an idea of what the possible outcome of this may be if they were to find Bristol was not there, and therefore unable to take care of Catherine. He just didn't want to let Reid onto it, because he knew for sure Reid would tell him what he wanted to hear in order to manipulate the situation against his idea.

"Absolutely not. When Lo asked her when the last time she had taken her medication was, she said before Bristol left. She's unable to even do that herself. She would be a danger to herself alone, especially if she continues to miss taking her medication. She could have a mental breakdown." The signs Reid was seeing her exhibit even now, he had seen before. At first with his mother, between finding Gary Michaels murdered by a friend, and before full fledged schizophrenia set in. He had also seen it in Gideon after he lost six men by one bad decision of his own, and watched him teeter on the edge of it after Sarah's death. He didn't want to give Lo a reason to go through the same thing if he could prevent it.

"Then I think we may only have one option as to what we can do with her, at least until this case is over. Until Bristol is found alive, or Lo is able to stay with her without us needing her, I think the safest thing we could do is admit her into a sanitarium. We'd need Lo's permission..." Hotch tried to talk fast in order to get all of his valuable facts on the table, hoping Reid would use his logic to understand how this was the best option. Instead, Reid interrupted him before he could finish.

"No! We're not doing that. I'm sorry, but we're not." His voice was short and curt. He was verbally putting his foot down, directly defying Hotch and taking no second thought to it. Hotch was afraid this may happen.

"Reid, this is Lo's call, not yours." Hotch tried again to reason with him, but didn't give him any leeway, letting it be known that he ultimately had no say.

"No. I'll talk her out of it. I'll advise her against it if I have to. We're not doing that to her mom." Reid vehemently refused to let Lo go through that. He spent all the days since he had his mom committed blaming himself, and he could never undo that. He was trying to make this about her mom, but it really wasn't.

"Reid, you need to listen to me. A sanitarium would be the best place for Catherine. They could make sure she gets the medications and care she needs, and it would only be temporary. I'll make sure that we find one run by a hospital, as it would meet the security specifications we need. The building would be locked down. No one would get in or out without signing a log book. We could make sure to specify the situation and that Catherine is to have no visitors except her daughter. They have their own security, as well as codes on every door going in and out of any area where the patients would be. The unsub wouldn't be unable to get to her. She would be safe there and properly taken care of." The only reason Reid listened this time was to amuse Hotch. His mind would still remain unchanged, but he wanted to appear to be open minded to it hoping that Hotch would give him some leeway now that he had listened.

"No. We'll find another way. I won't let you do this to Lo." His wording caught Hotch immediately. The way he specified that he wouldn't let him do it to Lo, as opposed to Catherine, as he had earlier, let him know that his original thoughts about the personal effect this would have on Reid were justified.

"Reid." There was no answer from the other side of the phone after a brief pause. He tried again with a new tactic, one Reid didn't have to answer back to, but would hopefully know he had to act upon." Reid! Reid, listen to me. Put Lo on the phone."

"No. I want to talk to her first." Still, Reid remained indignant. He had no plans on allowing Hotch to interfere in a situation he knew nothing about. It was easier to suggest such things when you'd never been through the emotional scarring it brings.

"Reid. Please don't disobey me. I am your superior." Although running out of patience, he still tried to go in gentle. He was unsure how much longer he'd be able to keep it up.

"You need my mind too much to fire me." In a bold move, Reid hung up the phone, knowing he was right. Directly after, he heard a phone go off from the porch. When he looked up, both women were staring at him, obviously having heard his end of the conversation and wondering what the heated debate was all about. When Prentiss began to pull out her phone, he stopped her, drawing even more attention to himself. "Don't pick that up."

"It's Hotch." This left the girls more curious as to what exactly had gone on in the conversation between the two men that would cause Hotch to be calling her now.

"I know, but he's going to want to talk to Lo, and I have to talk to her before he does." In a round about way, Reid was telling Prentiss to ignore her boss. She didn't like politics and she didn't like breaking the rules.

"Reid, I can't ignore him." She tried to give Reid the benefit of the doubt, knowing he didn't get worked up over any old thing. However, she couldn't deny how personal this case was for him, and how Lo had been the exception to a lot of girls close to his age.

"Fine. Lo, can I speak to you for a minute?" Seeing as he wasn't getting his way, he decided he would make due with what he could. Lo glanced between him and Prentiss, and ultimately remembered what she had always been told about who she could trust in a bind; Reid. She walked down the steps and toward him, stopping a few feet in front of him. "Hotch wants to put your mother in a sanitarium. He thinks she'd be safer there, but I have to advise you not to do it."

"Spencer, I hate to say this, but it's not a bad idea. I can't give my mom the care she needs and help your team at the same time. Even if I could, I got the first letter, the unsub is killing women who look similar to me, and we can't overlook that part of this could be about me. If the unsub is willing to abduct my sister, who's to say they wouldn't do the same, or worse, to my mom? I could put her in more danger by staying with her. She needs someone to take care of her, and she would get that, plus better security than we could give her here. Bristol's already been taken off the street between here and two blocks away. Even with police detail, the unsub could get in the house, especially with there being several points of entry. In a sanitarium, there's one way in, one way out, a lot of locks and some guards. We should do it. Temporarily, of course. Just until this is over." Because he was advising her not to do it, she wanted to make sure to make valid points. She also knew this was more personal for him, but she didn't want to let on to that. She knew he had his suspicions about her, and she promised if he was correct, and only if, she would reveal herself at the end of the case, but not a moment before. She had to be careful to keep that promise.

"No. Why aren't you listening to me? Don't you trust me? You flew hundreds of miles to discuss a letter with me when you could have just called. Why would you do that if you weren't going to trust me?" This wasn't about Reid, but he had made it that way. Because of his past, his mind decided to feel as if she was plotting against him, when he felt she previously trusted him, having come specifically to him. It reached a breaking point where the conflict was too much for him to process.

"Whoa, Spencer. The reason I flew out to you with the letter was because it was addressed to you. It was your letter, and I wasn't going to risk sending something like that. I knew something was wrong and that I had to get it to you immediately. I couldn't risk just calling and waiting to see if you or your team would decide to come down and check out the letter or not. Besides that, I was a little afraid that my life and my family's lives were in danger, too. This has nothing to do with not trusting you, because I do trust you. You're a good agent with an exemplary record, or at least that's what Google tells me. I just think that Agent Hotchner has a point." She treaded lightly, making her reasons for flying out to him clear, and letting him know that she stood by them, and she stood by trusting him. She didn't want him to think this was about that.

"I won't let you do this. If you do, I'm not helping with the case." Reid crossed his arms like a child, using an immature technique to get his way. Although his mind had far surpassed everyone else as he grew, certain parts of his psyche never got the attention they needed to know how to use certain situations as an proper outlet for his emotions.

"Spencer, please don't be like that. Please just think about what's most likely going to happen to my mom if we don't do this. Do you want that on your head? Do you want to know that we could have protected her, but we chose not to do it in the best way possible? Do you want me to have to live with that? I would rather live with knowing I had to commit my mom temporarily to keep her safe, than knowing I could have protected her and instead got her murdered. I promise I will remove her from the facility as soon as we have the killer behind bars. I would never leave her in there regardless of how this case turns out, but I have to protect her. I'm sorry you don't understand that." She turned this around, trying to find a different approach, and console him all the same.

It proved to be too much for him, as he shook his head and stomped off in the other direction to think. As she turned to watch him go, she noticed Prentiss standing just behind her, and by the horrified look on her face, she probably had been for most of the conversation. "Agent Prentiss, please tell Agent Hotchner that it's okay with me to put my mom in a sanitarium."

"He already knows. I came down here to talk to you, but we both heard yours and Reid's conversation. He said Garcia is working on finding somewhere with the security that we need, but we most likely won't be able to get her into a facility until tomorrow, under the specific circumstances. There's a lot of paperwork involved with the reason being as it is. They're going to make sure all available units of police are surrounding every inch of the house and every point of entry for the night, if your mother still refuses to come to the police station. We need you with us, though. Is there anyone you know who could take care of her for the night?" Hotch and Prentiss had worked this out. She was sure to stand far enough behind Reid and Lo to be able to talk to him without interrupting them, but close enough that she could hear their conversation, and if she held her phone out, Hotch could, too. She doubted she would have interrupted them regardless.

"The pastor at our church may do it. I know my momma likes her real well, and being a women of God, she may be willing to overlook the danger she's putting herself in for the morality of the situation. I'll give her a call now, because I won't ask Momma to come to the police station. After what she's gone through, it would be too traumatic for her, especially when I have to be working on a case, instead of spending time with her." Because of the circumstances where death could be an option, she knew most of the women at the church wouldn't stay with her mom, no matter how much police detail was placed on the house. She hoped the pastor had a better moral compass, but if she didn't, she was unsure what she would do. She tried not to think about it, instead focusing her attention on Reid, who was standing in the driveway, arms crossed, with a sour look on his face. "Prentiss, is he going to be okay?"

"You're going through all of this and you're worried about him?" Prentiss' eyes darted between Reid and Lo, watching how she was watching him, and he was ignoring the two of them, obviously angry and feeling betrayed. She guessed that was kind of hard to miss and not feel concerned for.

"I'm fine. I understand why we have to do what we have to do. I can justify it, but I'm not sure he can. I'm not sure he's fine, either. I don't want something that's going on in my personal life to affect someone the way this seems to be effecting him. I don't like that, that's my fault." She felt like her family had caused Reid enough pain before he was dragged into this situation. Piece by piece, she knew she was screwing up his life. She just didn't want him or the team to know she knew. She didn't want to give them a reason to suspect anything.

"That's not your fault. Reid has his own personal demons that this case brings up, but it's not because of you. I doubt he'd talk to you about them, but if you want to know, he'd be the person to ask. I can't betray his confidence." Prentiss, seeing her reaction, immediately wanted to sit her down and explain about his mom and the way Gideon had left him, since nearly nothing had been said to her regarding either, but it wasn't her story to tell.

"I understand. I just feel bad." She looked from Reid to Prentiss, nodding her head to tell her she understood, and then giving her a small, fake smile, trying to convince her that it was fine.

"He'll be okay. You just worry about your mom and yourself. I'll go talk to him." The important thing was that Lo focused on herself, and not on an agent acting out of emotions, and outside of the bounds of professionalism. She was the only one here not emotionally attached to this case the way the other two were, and it was up to her to mediate the broken pieces.

As Prentiss headed for Reid, Lo tried to collect herself, keeping inside all the parts of her she couldn't show the team. She was sick to her stomach and wanted nothing but to be left alone in a cool, dark room, where she could deal with things as came naturally to her. Her mind had to be one track; focused on her mom, but inside she knew this wasn't going to end well for her sister in one way or another. The Bristol she knew and loved would never came back to her the same, if at all. The incidences of the last two days were going to change her entire life forever, but it wasn't her life that she cared about. It was the life of those around her. She would lay down her life to protect her family.

With a few deep breathes, she headed back inside the house with her mom to explain to her what was going to happen, and hope she understood. She would make her phone calls, pray for the best, and convince the team to stay until detail was in place and there was someone to be there with her mom. And the whole time she would do this, she would keep her shield up, using it as a guard to protect her, while wishing with all her heart that she was doing the right thing. She knew the guilt she could carry as a consequence of one wrong decision could haunt her the rest of her life.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews, and adds this story to their favorites and alerts. You all own my heart. This story has been a labor of love for me more than the other ones I've written, so all of your opinions on what I'm doing right and wrong are greatly appreciated. I understand and respect that a lot of you don't have time to review, and that's totally okay. I want you to know that I appreciate you even reading; no reviews expected! But if you have a spare moment, please pop in and let me know what you think. I'm one of those strange people that assume I'm doing something wrong if no one has anything to say. That's probably pretty geeky, right? _

_Also, check out my girls Ceegeeavy and Phasha18, whose help has been invaluable in writing this story. _

_Phasha18 – Thanks for the review! As always, you are completely awesome._

_Ceegeeavy – Thanks for the review and for taking the time to catch up with my story! I am appreciative of your awesomeness. _

**Chapter 6**

**You and I Walk a Fragile Line**

It took a few hours to get everything situated at Catherine's house. Lo finally found out the difference between bending and breaking about halfway through telling her mom what it was that was going to happen. The words she wanted to come just wouldn't, and when she finally did get out the word sanitarium, her mom went into a fit like she'd never seen her go into. Lo tried fruitlessly to explain that they were doing it for her own good, but her mom screamed, cried, and at one point she even threw a few punches Lo's way.

This is when Lo was sure this was not her mother; that she had been replaced by someone more fragile and volatile. Although the timing couldn't have been worse, she found herself angry at Bristol for not alerting her to the change in her mom, regardless of the situation. There was no way this was from merely missing two doses of her medication, and there had been a reason for the change in medication to begin with. Earlier, she was able to convince herself that her mom's behavior was due only to the missed doses, but the light of reality of too bright to ignore.

Her mother's fate was finally becoming her, just like she and her sister knew it would one day. As much as she hardly wanted to think this out further, the idea cropped up in her mind that maybe a sanitarium was the best place for her mom, and not just temporarily. She pushed the idea out, though, not wanting to put all her eggs in one basket during such an emotional time. She had too many other things to focus on, but at least this cemented the fact that, for now, she was doing the right thing for her mom. She would not look back and have any regrets. Reid, on the other hand, she couldn't be too sure of.

Just like the profiling federal agent she was, Prentiss was able to spot the issues with the situation due to behavioral actions, and swoop in to try and save the day. Although Lo would normally be against anyone else trying to reason with her mom, she knew she was too close to the situation now; too emotional, and she would never be able to douse the flames like Prentiss could. Lo excused herself to the bathroom to get some tissues and let herself cry, and when she came back Prentiss had her mom calmed down just about as well as she figured her mom was going to be. She didn't ask questions; she couldn't. She just accepted it.

Hotch, just as he promised he would do, had sent out any available units of police and called in others just to post around the house. The place was swarming with cops, ensuring that no criminal, no matter how calculated, would come within a block of that place or maybe two, if they valued their anonymity and didn't care to be caught. The neighbors had even come out of their houses and some walked from down the street just to see what all the mayhem was about. There were officially enough people on alert that Lo finally felt like her mom would be secure, something she was previously doubting considering the last few days and the clandestineness of the killer.

It was eventual that Lo called the pastor, relieved when she agreed to stay with her mom, albeit, obviously hesitant. No matter who you served, she couldn't imagine the situation to be settling. She knew it even irked her fellow law enforcement officers, and they were trained for situations like this. She had failed to omit all the facts to the pastor, however, when she walked through the door she seemed to be up to date with what was going on. When Lo inquired about how she magically knew everything, she found out it wasn't magic at all, yet Reid's own doing. Color her surprised, as Reid had made no efforts that she was aware of to come in the house or directly help with the situation at hand.

When the time came for the team to leave the police to do their work and Lo to say goodbye until tomorrow, when she hoped things would be situated for her mom to be moved, Reid got in the car silently, sitting in the back like he had on their way there. The car ride under the cover of nightfall was filled with awkward tension, which left it shrouded in an eery quietness that was almost unsettling, but Lo was fine with that, needing time to pull herself together, knowing it was going to be a long night. And she was right, because they arrived back at the police station not a moment too soon.

The team was just finishing up the interviews with the victims' families, leaving Hotch prepared to brief everyone. They weren't back inside of the police station five minutes when he gathered everyone in the the room the BAU had been given, Detective Langston, his team, and Garcia included, to hand out orders, sure to keep Reid running his own leg of the investigation. He had just the job to give him. As soon as everyone was settled, Hotch didn't waste a moment getting to work.

"Reid, Prentiss, Lo, it's good to have you back. I assume everything is taken care of with Catherine?" Hotch raised an eyebrow at them, sure they wouldn't have come back without settling things, but wanting to be sure, nonetheless. They couldn't afford any errors.

"It is." Before Reid had a chance to answer, Lo's instincts kicked in, and she did it for him, as it was her mother of which they were speaking. Reid was non too happy about this and wondered if the entire case was going to be this way. He didn't think he could take someone who ranked under him being so authoritative, even if he knew it wasn't on purpose.

But Reid was protective of this case. He knew that Lo was, too, because it was her family that was on the line. Even still, he felt like it was more his case than her personal terror. He was the one who worked the original case. He knew about this killer first. His mentor and the only real father figure he had ever known, was the one being threatened after almost being killed by the unsub the previous time. He felt it necessary to take ownership of it, not quite sure how he even felt about Hotch handing out orders as a superior.

"Good. You can see Garcia about obtaining the paperwork you'll need to fill out for your mother after the briefing." Lo nodded, seeing that she had stepped on the toes of Reid, and since she was already walking a very fragile line with him, she just didn't care to break it. Being as it was, she decided nodding was sufficiently preferred to speaking.

"So what did you find out from the victims' families?" Once he had a silent understanding that Lo understood her orders, Hotch was going to go about doing his job, however, Reid couldn't seem to wait that long. The more information he had and the quicker he had it, the better.

"Linsey was a college student at Nashville State Community College. She still lived at home with her parents. She had no siblings. When she left last night, she told her parents she was going to the campus library to study, like she did most every night. When she wasn't in her bed this morning, her parents weren't concerned. Sometimes, if she was studying late, she would stay at her friend's house near the campus. Katy was known to be a bit of a transient. She's originally from Nashville, but left home at eighteen and skipped from place to place. The best her parents could tell, she was living like a gypsy. She returned home three months ago to make a better life for herself. She had begun working at the local supermarket to earn money to go back to college. She moved out of her parents' house last week and moved in with a childhood friend. They spoke to her once after she moved in, but they have no idea where she was last night. We also spoke with the roommate, who said they were at a local nightclub, and that the last she had seen, Katy was talking to a young woman, although nothing remarkable stood out about her. She also said Katy was known to have some lesbian tendencies, so she figured she had gone home with the woman, but she wasn't able to help us past that." It had been a long day for the team, and they knew this was only the beginning. Between the emotions running high with the families they had interviewed, and now knowing that although Lo was holding it together well, they also had to mind her emotions as well, Hotch knew this case was going to strain the team in every way possible.

It wasn't just his team members, though, that were to be effected. Talking to the family members of the victims had only confirmed one largely disturbing detail, and that's that both women were last seen last night. Between last night and very early this morning, both were taken, murdered and photographed, and the unsub still had time to drop a letter off into Catherine's mailbox without anyone seeing. Also, at some point last night, Bristol was taken, making this unsub highly skilled at what they were doing. Taking three women in one night was no easy task, but to do it unnoticed and have somewhere to hide the bodies was almost unheard of. And if Bristol was still alive, which was possible with no evidence to the contrary, the unsub had to have somewhere to keep a live victim where no one would hear her scream.

Now nightfall was upon them again and every measure had to be taken to assure there were no repeats of last night. There just didn't seem like enough cops in the world to take care of the situation, so they could only do what they could do. Unfortunately, Hotch knew it may take more contact from the killer for them to be captured, which also meant more bodies. They needed more to profile, because as of yet, they didn't have enough, and the victimology was too generalized for them to adequately protect every small, blonde haired women with red streaks in her hair in the entire Nashville area. Everyone was about to be overworked and underpaid.

"Did either of the girls have anything in common? Could they have known each other or frequented the same places?" Reid still had his trepidations about the unsub being a woman, especially with the facts in place. It would be extremely difficult for a woman to be so efficient when she didn't have the brawn over her victims.

Even though what Hotch had just said regarding who Katy had been last seen with the night before seemed to match that theory, he stuck to his guns, deciding he wasn't willing to jump on the bandwagon just yet. He had to work out all other theories, because he knew better than everyone else that this kind of violence was so rare in women that it was almost negligible. In Reid's mind, odds and facts overrode evidence often. He needed more than what he was getting now to believe it true, even if Gideon had sworn the person he saw in his room that night was a woman. He had been attacked. There was nothing to say that the incident hadn't altered his reality.

"It's unlikely. As far as we could tell, they ran in completely different social circles and had drastically different ways of living their lives. Katy liked to party and wasn't currently attending college, whereas Linsey was on the honor roll and a known book worm. When we showed both sets of parents and Katy's roommate pictures of the other girl, they couldn't identify them. The only thing they seem to have in common is their appearance. They both dressed similarly, were a comparable height and build, and wore the same hairstyle." Hotch passed around pictures of the girls that the family had brought in, familiarizing everyone with the exact appearance of the girls who were being taken. He knew everyone already was familiar with it, but he wanted it burned in their minds so it was second nature to spot these women.

"So the lifestyle these girls live isn't what the unsub is after, it's specifically their looks." Even though it had been implied earlier and seen as a very viable option, and even though it had also been this way with the original case, the switch of hair color preference didn't sit right with Reid. It hadn't from the beginning.

In response to Reid's rhetorical response, a product of him thinking out loud, everyone looked at Lo in an moment that she was sure would have ranked high on the comedic scale had it been under different circumstances. It was hard to ignore the similarities, though Hotch decided that instead of making her uncomfortable, he was going to rein everyone back in.

"It seems plausible, and it's what we have to work with as of now. Reid, Garcia and Lo, I want the three of you to stay at the station. Reid, I want you working on geographical profiling. Maybe it can help us narrow down an area where the girls are being taken and where the unsub might live. The locations of the places Linsey and Katy were last seen are in this file. You have the file from the original Doll Killer case at your disposal as well. Garcia, I want you to start pulling everything you can on all of the Doll Killer's victims; phone records, credit card receipts, anything from three months prior to their abductions and murders forward. Although it doesn't seem that these victims are connected in any way, I'd like to be sure or see if a certain pattern developed in the days, weeks or months prior to the murders. Lo, I want you to work with Garcia. Look over everything she pulls up and see if something strikes a chord with you. Although we profile based on behavior, I think this case may need a more personal touch. Since your family are the ones receiving the letters, it has to come from you." Reid lifted up the file Hotch had pointed out, flipping through it and mentally preparing to put together a geographical profile in his mind. It was one of the things he did best.

"Sir, I thought you wanted me to look for Agent Gideon." Although she had tried, there were other matters that seemed to eat away at her attention since they had gotten there.

She was no profiler, but she was concerned about Gideon. Even though The Doll Killer seemed to be actively targeting Nashville, that could change at any moment. Besides, who knew where Gideon was anyway? He could be in the local area and in danger, for all they knew.

"I did, unless something else needed your attention more. I understand you've not had much time to search since we've needed you for other things, but we still do." Garcia nodded in compliance, writing a few things down on her tablet in front of her.

"What are the rest of you going to do?" Reid felt like he was becoming more of a babysitter for Lo than a leader for a leg of the investigation. He knew what Hotch was suggesting was important and needed done, but after this afternoon, he would have preferred a little time to breathe away from her. He still highly disagreed with her decision.

"We're going to canvas the streets. I want to check out the places where the last two victims were seen, as well as look at the original crime scenes with fresh eyes for similarities. I also want us to to talk to anyone and everyone where the girls were last seen to see if we can further find out about their last moments or better identify the unsub." Hotch gave Reid a confirmation nod and then turned to the remaining team of detectives and police officers that were further awaiting instruction. "Detective Langston, I'd like for you to split up your team into four teams, yourself included, sending them each out with one of our agents. They will be the team leader. If we could coordinate a team of remaining officers to be on the lookout for any girls reminiscent of the current victimology in order to prevent further danger, that would be most helpful. Reid, I trust you can handle Garcia and Lo."

"Garcia, maybe." Morgan scoffed, particularly proud of his ingenuity for sarcasm. Reid didn't share this same feeling.

"I promise to only be spectacularly good for my Boy Wonder." Doing as she always did, Garcia stepped in to make sure Reid knew she would be nothing but her wonderful, usual self for him, and even make sure to tone herself down just a notch so that he could understand all of her little quips, as she knew he often didn't.

"We'll be fine. Just go." Lo shook her head, eyeing first Morgan, and then Reid, letting them know what Morgan said was but a cute little joke, and she planned on behaving.

The only problem with that was she hadn't been the reason Morgan was worried, at least not directly. He didn't think Lo was going to harass Reid to the end of his wits; she didn't seem to have it in her. What she did have was a penchant for getting under Reid's skin in a way he wouldn't know how to admit to if he tried, but it was unlikely he realized. He knew his friend well enough to know when there was plenty of opportunity for his emotions to kick in, and this was one of those times.

"If you find anything, call me right away. As for the rest of you, you all have your orders. Let's move." Hotch, being a true leader, was the first through the open door, more than two dozen uniforms following after him. Suddenly, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the first floor offices were empty, except for the two BAU members and Lo.

"All right, my friend in femininity, what do you say we put my computer skills and your mad, albeit curious, skills to the test?" Garcia didn't give Lo a chance to answer, feeling how thick the air had become with just the team leaving. She wasn't blind; she could see there was obviously something unspoken going on between Lo and Reid, something she'd be sure to ask Prentiss about later. Since it wasn't later, they had work to do.

Lo followed Garcia out of the room, leaving Reid to his geographical profiling. The impatient look Reid was giving her, as if she was intruding on his space, helped her walk just a little faster. Had she known just how meticulous her job was about to become, she would have probably told Garcia to bring any records she printed out to the room where she had been, the daggers Reid was sending her way being the only thing keeping her from falling into the land of absolute monotony. It also didn't help that, because Garcia had wanted to search for Gideon in peace, afraid of what she may or may not find and not wanting anyone to have any hopes lifted or hearts broken until she was sure, she had requested her own room in the back of the station under the rouse of needing some quiet. What she got was nearly a closet, no windows or healthy ventilation to speak of, but she seemed happy.

After more than three hours in front of computer screens and piles of paperwork, filling it out for her mom, looking it over, and trying to make sense of it, Lo could take no more. Her eyes were drooping. In less than twenty four hours, she had traveled on a red-eye to Virginia, traveled back to Nashville, dealt with her mentally deficient mother, became heavily broken upon realizing her own sister was missing and unable to show it, and was now severely lacking sleep, as she tried to predict if there was any pattern between the girls that only she could identify. She had a new respect for profilers, but also for sleep and hunger.

"Well, Miss Garcia, if I may call you that, please take no offense to this, but I have to get out of this room before I fall asleep. Can I get you some coffee and something to eat? There's a great little place around the corner that's open twenty four seven." Lo stopped what she was saying, looking down at her watch to see exactly what time it was, only knowing it was late. "Wow, it's a good thing, too, because it's coming up on midnight."

"You may, and did you say food? Food would be wonderful. My stomach is growling and I don't like the language it is using with me. You better ask Reid also before you leave, especially if there's coffee involved." Rising from her chair, Lo stretched her tired limbs. It didn't help any, but she had to try to do something or else she'd be asleep on the pavement between here and the diner.

"I will be sure to do that. What can I get for you?" Scribbling a few things down on a piece of paper while Lo stretched, Garcia was prepared, shoving the paper in her hand gently, along with a ten dollar bill. "Oh, well you're delightful for not making me have to remember this when I get to the diner, Garcia. I will be right back."

While Garcia reveled in being called delightful, a term she often felt she was the only one who properly used, Lo made her way out of the room where she had been with Garcia, and into the room that held all the maps that Reid was tirelessly drawing all over. A three year old would be very proud of his colorful artwork, although Lo knew that joke would hardly be one he'd get, since he was honestly working very hard to catch a killer. Instead of falling flat on her face with humor he wouldn't appreciate, she simply cleared her throat to get his attention.

"I was just going to head out and get us some coffee and something to eat. I was wondering what you would like." The tension was obvious, but she tried to smile. She knew it was she that had upset Reid, and that he wasn't really angry with her. The last thing she had wanted to do was dredge up his past or upset him, which is why she chose to tell him some things when the case was over...you know, if she had something to tell.

"How can you think about food at a time like this?" Reid hadn't even turned around to look at her, spouting off the first thing that came to mind. Unfortunately, the mere mention of food sparked his stomach's interest and he was unable to hide it.

"Don't tell me you're not hungry. Your stomach is betraying you." Lo laughed lightly, but he didn't. The forced smile was wiped from her face instantly, as she tried to recover. It took her a couple of minutes to find the right words to face this head on. "Spencer, I'm not sure what I did to upset you so badly, but I'm sorry. If this is about my mom..."

"Can you just get me the largest cup of coffee they have? Please?" While Reid tried to not forget his manners, although they were forced and short, this confirmed for Lo that what she had thought had upset him was indeed the culprit.

"No. Not until you at least talk to me. I know this isn't exactly the right time to have a caring and sharing moment, but this, solving the case, it's not going to happen unless you tell me what's going on and we work it out. I doubt Hotch would be happy to find out you don't really want to work with me. Not that I would tell him, but it's kind of obvious, and he is a profiler." Lo leaned into the frame of the door that she hadn't much surpassed when entering the room. She didn't want to encroach on his space and make him feel like she was attacking him. She could already see the discomfort color his features.

"It's not that I don't want to work with you, it's just that I don't respect your decision, and therefore I don't respect you right now." Still, he attacked. He knew it wasn't right, and he hadn't meant it how it had come out, but Lo knew it was partially true. He would get over it, but it wouldn't be right now.

"Wow. I'm sorry about your mom, Spencer, but every situation is different." Her voice was calm, not accusatory. She looked straight at him when she spoke and kept eye contact on him long enough for him to turn around. As soon as he looked at her, she looked down, too many emotions backing up. She didn't need him against her, too. She hoped she hadn't made a huge mistake in what she had said. She didn't want to hurt him.

"How did you know about that? Did Prentiss tell you?" Desperate, he began to ask her questions. He couldn't figure any way she would have known about that. No matter how hard she Googled him, she would never find that. Even Garcia hadn't known until he had to bring his mom to the BAU to protect her during a case.

"No, but it doesn't take a genius or a profiler to see how personal what happened at my house was to you. I took an educated guess and made an inference. Am I not right?" He just kept looking at her, his face forever changing between confusion, hurt and fear; fear of her and what she seemed to know since she stepped into the BAU that morning. "It's okay, you know, to tell someone you're upset with them, because they hurt you or brought something up that hurt you. No one's going to think of you as weak. In fact, they may even feel horrible that they did and want to make it right with you, because they hadn't meant to. It's just something to think about. I'll be back with your coffee."

"Lo?" Thinking she may have gotten through to him where others had tried and failed before, but most had just forgone trying, she turned to find him standing in the place of the doorway she had just turned from. "Here. It's for my coffee."

"Get the heck out of here. I don't want your money. Don't misunderstand, I'm not trying to make up for upsetting you by buying you coffee, but I think it's splitting hairs to worry about a few bucks. You can give Garcia back her money, too. I somehow doubt she'll take it from me." Lo placed Garcia's money in Reid's hand, and the moment she did it he knew he had a problem. He was still upset, and even more upset that she had the guts to point out he was upset, yet there was something so kind, so familiar, and so comforting about her that he found himself bending, even if just temporarily. He knew she had meant no harm, although he doubted he'd fully see things her way.

"Do you want me to go with you? It may not be safe for you to go out there alone." He had enough of his wits left about him to think like a federal agent. There was also another part of him that vehemently wanted to protect her, but didn't quite know why. She smiled at him, and although a small smile, it wasn't fake.

"Nah. Like you said earlier, if the unsub wanted me, they would have taken me by now. I'll be just around the corner if you need me. My phone's on and I have a my gun." She knew when she decided to go and get food that disrupting the other agents was not an option. They needed to be here working on the case. So did she, but she could afford a to take a few minute to get them what they needed to refuel.

"Where did you get your gun from?" As far as Reid had known, she had been unarmed, although he certainly knew she had clearance to carry a gun with being an officer of the law. She just hadn't made it a point to say a thing about it.

"I keep a gun hidden in my mom's house. Because of her condition, I can't carry one in there and risk her seeing or finding it, but I also don't like the thought of being unarmed if anything were to happen to my family. I'm the only one who knows it's there. I grabbed it while everyone was busy introducing themselves to my mom and making a plan of attack for the night. I'd like to think my hiding place is still safe." Lo wasn't one to walk around with it in plain sight. It's the reason she kept her badge in her purse. She was just like everyone else, unless she had a reason not to be. Truth be told, she normally didn't even carry her gun with her around Viola, but she knew this was different, and it was but a worthwhile safety measure.

After a few awkward moments and some passive looks between the two, Lo turned and left without so much as an "I'll be back," to be heard. It was merely implied. She walked out of the ground level doors and down the stairs, making her way toward the only twenty four hour diner in the area of which cops frequented. They even sold donuts, which she was sure accounted for half of their police business. Cops may have been the butt of all donut jokes, but they were true. While she was thinking of it, she decided to order herself one, hoping it would cheer her up.

With a coffee carrier and a bag of food in hand, she was headed back to the police station just as quickly as she had left. She stood at the bottom of the stairs to the station, stopping to set her things down so she could take a good swig of coffee before heading back into the building. She was going to need it. As soon as she laid her items down on the stone staircase, something caught her eye. Quickly picking everything back up, she went for the door, grabbing the envelope that was stuck to the door and rushing into the station.

"Spencer! Spencer, excuse my French, but that son or daughter of a bitch is following me!" Her feet picked up pace as she yelled through the empty station, almost reaching the doorway to the room where Reid had been, when he met her halfway. Coming from the other direction, Garcia wasn't far behind in reaching her, rushing out of her closet office to see what the conundrum was about. "This was taped to the door when I came back. It wasn't there when I left, and I was barely gone five minutes. The unsub had to have been watching me, waiting for me to leave, knowing that I'd come back and see this. Whoever this is, they're playing with me, and I've just about had enough for one day."

Reid took the envelope out of her hand as she pressed past him, hurrying to set down the food and drinks in her hand on the desk behind him, eager to see what was inside of it. He was torn between opening the envelope, as opposed to waiting for her, and being shocked by her reaction. All day she had been kind and quiet, accepting things as they came and dealing with them as best as humanely possible. Now she was stone cold angry. He didn't know if it was because of the hour of the night it was, pure exhaustion, that she had finally had enough, or all of the above, but even he could tell the reaction was out of character for her. Instead of being upset or scared, she was just plain angry.

By the time he had stopped focusing on her, he had gotten a good enough look at the envelope to see her name scrolled across it, but just her first name, and the shortened version at that, pasted on with letters from newspaper clippings. Whoever this was knew her a little too well for him to be comfortable with it. She returned to his side and ripped the envelope from his hands, meaning no harm or insults, but she wanted to see what was inside of it. She had enough of the games. If it was her The Doll Killer wanted, she'd rather them just take her now and spare everyone else's life. The problem was, she knew there was much more to it than that. Rarely were things that simple. If they were, she'd be dead and the killer would have left her family alone.

Lo pulled a tri-folded piece of paper from the envelope, something falling to the ground. She picked it up, already knowing what it was. It didn't take a genius to wager that guess. She shook her head, disbelieving that someone could be so cruel, and handed it to Garcia.

"Another victim. You may as well contact the family now, if that's what Spencer wants you to do." Garcia took the license from Lo's hands, horrified. It took Reid a moment to get past the thoughts running through his head and the weight of the situation.

"Get their contact information, but wait until morning to contact them. I'm the only agent in the office right now and I need to focus on the letter. I really don't want to interview the parents without Hotch, anyway. Oh, and Garcia, could you check the video cameras outside of the station to see if they caught the unsub putting the note on the door?" He hated to make the parents wait until morning to find out about their daughter's death, but he also knew she would still be in the same state by morning. She wasn't going to come back to life.

Hotch wouldn't want him to take his focus away from the letter to interview the parents when it was fair to say it would get them no further information, since the other two families were also unable to provide any sort of pattern. Their best chances of finding this unsub and saving more lives were by leaving the team to do what they were doing, while he saw if he could get anything from the letter.

"I'm am all over it like sex appeal on my chocolate thunder." Despite the situation and the seriousness that was plastered all over Garcia's face, much like it was anytime she worked, she remained perky. She would simply not allow herself to give in to becoming drone-like or then she felt the unsub would have won already.

"Here, Spencer. I have something for you, too. I guess this time we can just be glad there's only one victim, as opposed to two." Lo handed Reid the picture that accompanied the letter as she opened. Fortunately, it had not fallen out when the license did, sparing Garcia from having to immediately see another body with another number carved into it.

Lo was angry and frustrated, not knowing if she wanted to scream or cry. This wasn't a cluster of emotions she'd ever had to deal with before, but all she knew was that she wanted to catch this sicko before they had a chance to kill anyone else and make her feel like she was to blame.

"Number eleven and you're not enough to bring Gideon out of hiding. If he's still too chicken to show his face, tell him one more doll and we make the trade." Her heart started racing, a terror inside of her that she wasn't sure she could know until just now. Even worse than finding out her sister was missing after the fact, was finding out that time was running out and the game had been set. She tried to contain herself, as not to show it.

In their own way, the unsub was now asking something out of her, and it was too much. It was as if the unsub expected her to be able to snap her fingers and make Gideon appear, but that simply wasn't the case at all, nor would it ever be. But she felt helpless, as if all of this were her fault and there was nothing she could do to save any of those girl whose awful fate had and would continue to await them until the unsub got their only true wish; until they could make the impossible trade.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews, and adds this story to their alerts and favorites. You all own my heart. This story makes me all kinds of subconscious. That's weird, right? Thoughts and opinions are always welcome and appreciated. I write for you guys, because you are all awesome! _

_Phasha18 – Thank you for always reviewing and being awesome. I appreciate it and you! _

_Prieva – Thanks for the review! This probably sounds really stupid, but I start to worry that no one is enjoying this story, so thank you so much for letting me know that you are. I appreciate it. I literally spent two days in front of the computer fleshing out this plot line, and several weeks before that coming up with the idea for the story, so it gives me the warm and fuzzies that you picked up on that. I hope you continue to enjoy the story! _

**Chapter 7**

**A Set Piece**

A moment of silence passed, a moment where not a breath could be heard in the air, two chests too tight to try for air. Although it was a brief moment, it was a moment too much. Breaking the silence, her fingers still clinging to the paper helplessly, Lo got a hold of herself, interjecting some life back into a nearly dead room.

"This one is like the first one. It was pieced together by words out of the newspaper." Softly, the words came. She wished for more, but it was all she had.

"Let me see." Reid basically ripped the letter out of her hands, as she could barely bear to part with it. Reid looked at it for a moment, then stopped, recalling something in his mind before speaking. "We've been looking at this case all wrong."

"What do you mean?" Lo watched as Reid walked into the room where he had been geographically profiling and pulled out the other two letters from the files on the table, coming back to join her.

"Hold on. I'm going to call Hotch. I want him to hear this, too. Go get Garcia and tell her that she needs to get Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi on my line for a conference call." Turning on her heels, Lo followed orders, while Reid was already waiting for Hotch to answer. It only took seconds before his strong, low voice came through the phone line.

"Hotch, it's Reid. We got a third letter. It was addressed a Lo. After I put all the letters together I realized something. I need you to get whomever you're with together in a secure place and put me on speaker phone. Garcia should be conferencing in the rest of the team. As soon as she does that, I'll explain." Reid was still looking down at the letters, sorting them in order and lying them out on top of a nearby desk, when Garcia surprised him. He didn't jump, but he looked up to see she and Lo walking toward him sooner than he expected.

"Everyone should be there, my wonder. I had to work some magic. It's not easy to have to have to patch their lines..." Reid turned from her, not meaning to offend her, but also unable to see that he had hurt her feelings a little when he just kept talking, moving on with what he was doing.

"Confirm if you're on the line." Three new voices of his other team members came through his speaker. Once he heard everyone, he continued on. "Like I told Hotch, I need you to gather whomever you can and get to a secure place where you can put your phones on speaker. Let me know when you're there."

While he waited, Reid pulled out a dry erase marker from his pocket. He had previously been using it on his board to geographically profile. Since that board was full and the girls were gathered with him in the bull pen, he resorted to writing on the only thing he could find near him; the windows between the bullpen and the room he had been previously working in. With the letters nearby, he would turn his head and reference them and then write something on the window. The second time he turned to look at the letters, he happened to catch the look on the girls' faces. Both matched, both telling him they thought he was a little nuts, going to town on the window the way he was without any understanding they had as to why. He decided to acknowledge them.

"Lo and Garcia, go ahead and take a seat. I'm going to put my phone on speaker, too. Lo, I'm going to talk directly to you, so if you have any questions, ask them. The team is just going to be on the line to listen in. Garcia, were you able to find out anything about our unsub?" He continued writing and referencing while he was talking, not having to look back at the girls to process what either of them had to say. He could take it all in at once.

"The cameras caught the person, but they were walking hunched over, with their hoodie up and their head down. There were no brand names or identifiers on their clothing. They must not appreciate good fashion sense either, because they were in black sweatpants and a plain black hoodie, both which were extremely baggy. I tried my best with the software I had, but I got no facial shots at all, and with the way they were walking and the bagginess of their clothes, it was impossible to tell their height or size. I couldn't even tell you their gender. It doesn't happen often, I'd say less than one percent of the time, but sometimes the princess of all things technical gets owned by some smarty pants criminal with a decent plan." Instead of responding, Reid just nodded, continuing to write and wait for everyone to gather together, although he was impatient about it. He understood rounding everyone up took some time, but he didn't have time. His brain was on go right now.

"I thought you were the queen of all technology." Lo cocked her head thoughtfully, looking at Garcia, her angry and scared tone replaced by a more thoughtful one, as Garcia rode her office chair up next to Lo, both of them centered just feet in front of Reid.

If anyone could bring her out of her funk, it would be Garcia. Although she was pretending well, she was still terrified. She didn't think anything Reid had to say was going to soothe that, but she tried not to put the cart before the horse.

"Oh, sugar pop, tonight I am but only a princess. I've hit a lot of walls today." Just as Garcia spoke, the team began to confirm with Reid that they were somewhere secure and prepared. He turned to the girls, quietly shushing them and holding his hand up astutely, urging them to stop talking. Moments later, he took the reigns, but not before sitting the phone on a face level filing cabinet a few feet from where he was writing.

"Like I was telling Hotch, we got a third letter that broke this case down for me. Since the letter was addressed to Lo, I'm going to have a conversation directly with her. I just want you all to listen in. This whole time we've been focused on the dolls. This isn't about the dolls. This has never been about the dolls, even six years ago when Gideon and I were on the case. This has always been about Gideon." Reaching up, Reid took his marker and circled something on the window. From the way he was standing, neither Garcia nor Lo could see what he had circled, so since he had said the conversation was directed at Lo, she decided to question it.

"How do you know that?" She moved to the edge of the swivel chair she had taken, almost spinning it into Garcia. She spoke loudly, making sure everyone else could hear her through the phone.

"The letters told me. We've been so busy focusing on the dolls, that we haven't paid enough attention to the letters. We've done nothing but allow them to confuse us, when the letters have been telling us everything we need to know about the case. This whole time we've been thinking the letters have been sporadic, but that's just what the unsub wanted us to think. These letters weren't sent for no reason, the unsub is too well calculated for that. They knew they could reveal themselves in plain sight and we'd be too busy investigating the murders to notice. I can't believe I didn't see this before." Mentally, Reid kicked himself as he wrote some more, turning his head only a handful of times and only for a brief amount of time to look at Lo, to engage her.

"You've officially lost me. Explain?" If she didn't ask, someone else would have. When things clicked for Reid, he had the tendency to gloss over things and not explain them as well as he should unless prompted. It was easy for him to forget that most everyone else's brain didn't work on the same wavelength as his.

"It's all in the wording and who received the letters. You received the first letter, but it was addressed to me. It also threatened me along with Gideon. Even though I was on the original case with him, I was never threatened on the original case and the unsub never came after me. They're still not after me. The unsub was trying to scare me. They wanted it to look like they were threatening me, too, because they knew we'd take the bait, if nothing else but as a precaution. The first letter also mentioned a her, and you thought the her was you, because the letter arrived in your mailbox. I disagreed, because I thought the her was just a set piece. The second and third letters disproved that theory. Your mom got the second letter, which was another link to you. The second letter wasn't addressed to anyone and started out indicating the same thing the first letter did, which was that all we could save was her. The second sentence contradicts that by saying the dolls belong to the unsub _until _we make the trade. The third letter supports my inference that this isn't about the dolls. The third letter was received after you left the station and left specifically for you to find when you came back. You're right, the unsub is following you. The unsub left the second letter for your mom and took your sister to create panic, knowing we'd send available men to her house, and the rest on the streets to patrol. They knew not only that the station would be mostly empty, but they know our team. They know that we always leave someone behind at the station to run point. Because you're not part of the team, yet you would be valuable to us, they knew you would be left behind at the station with minimal police detail, and that they would be able to get that letter to you one way or another. All of the letters but the last one talk about making the trade for her life. The last one specifically says you instead of her, which means you are the her, because the letter is addressed to you. This unsub wouldn't put so much focus into someone that wasn't the her." Reid was writing and circling now faster than ever. He had himself worked up, but it was in the good way where he was excited. His ability to piece things together this way was his reason for being in the BAU, but he thrived on these moments when everything clicked.

"How can you be sure of that?" In a way, Lo was playing into Reid's hand. She was positive that she was the her from the moment she opened the letter, but had struggled not to let on to that. She was careful with her wording, only throwing it out there and letting them believe what they may.

"The same way that I can be sure that the unsub was only trying to startle me with the first letter. Not only that, but with the second one as well." Both Garcia and Lo had the same confused looks on their faces, breaking his flow when he had to inevitably stop to explain again. This is why he focused on writing; he didn't notice people's expressions, therefore, he didn't have to be kind about pausing to explain things. "Let me break it down for you. I'm the only remaining team member that worked on the case. For this unsub to come back this strong after six years tells me the unsub has spent the last six years planning this, waiting. The third letter still mentions making the trade, but it focuses on Gideon. If it was really about the two of us, there'd be something in there about me, too. If you knew about my mom based on being around me less than a day, I don't think it's too far fetched to think the unsub does, too. In threatening me in the first letter, the unsub was hoping the team would leave me behind for safety reasons. If nothing else, they were hoping to scare me enough that my mind wouldn't fully be focused on the case. Both of these things would give them the advantage with the rest of the team's unfamiliarity with the case. They knew from the first time we were here that the FBI doesn't back down, so they concocted a second plan in case that didn't work. The unsub knew they had to find someone to use as a pawn to lure Gideon out of hiding, because if Garcia can't find Gideon, most likely they couldn't either, which is why they're doing all of this in the first place. This last letter says that you were not enough to bring Gideon out of hiding. You weren't picked at random. The unsub did their research. They found out that Gideon saved your mom near their very own killing grounds in 1986. This unsub knows Gideon somehow. They would have to in order to want to target him. They knew Gideon would find a way to watch out for the people he once saved, and if he found out they were in danger he'd feel obligated to do what it takes to save them. But your mom was mentally ill and unable to play their game like you were, so the unsub went after you, who happens to carry a lot of the same qualities as Gideon as far as being a natural profiler and being a law enforcement officer. That automatically excited the unsub. Your mom's mental illness was just a bonus for the unsub, because they were able to play it against me if the letter didn't succeed in removing me, at least to some degree, from the case."

"You got all of that out of the letters?" Suddenly, she felt like such an idiot. Although she knew she was the her in the letters, she hadn't seen the broader spectrum of why, because she had known the simple reason for it. She was disappointed in herself, but suddenly further understood why it was Reid she was always told to go to in case she found herself in a quandary. "And I thought I was doing well by theorizing why the unsub was marking their victims as dolls and coming to the conclusion that I was the her."

"You were right about both of those things, and they were helpful." It was rare for Reid to be reassuring, at least on purpose, but this time he was, catching Garcia's attention. She smiled to herself, containing her giddiness. Maybe her boy wonder wouldn't die alone, and someone would be there to find the body before it smelled.

"Thanks for the consolation prize, Spencer. That doesn't make me feel any better." Trying to ignore Garcia's gaze, Lo played things off with her natural demeanor, making sure not to draw any attention from the other team members, who thankfully couldn't note Garcia's looks into their mind's database. She just wanted to get this day over with.

"I'm sorry. I'm probably going to make you feel a lot worse, though. I'm not done yet." Lo sighed, probably a little louder than intended. Feeling as if she needed to cheer everyone up, Garcia ran over to the bag of food and coffee that Lo had sat down in order to deal with the letter. She brought it back with her, handing things out accordingly and taking a sip of her own mocha drink.

"We're not going to get any sleep tonight, are we?" Gulping down a big swig of coffee, Lo relaxed back into her chair. There was no reason to be on the edge of her seat when she was tired enough to fall off of it, yet stuck there.

"Probably not. Throughout the case it's been mentioned that the victims look like you. We now know that the unsub is doing that on purpose since you're the her. Everything they're doing is in an attempt to scare you. For example, the unsub took your sister and could have killed her instead of having to go and find someone else, kidnap them, and then kill them." What Reid saw as taking a breath, one that quickly turned into a yawn at the mention of sleep, Lo interpreted as a pause on his end.

"What if she's the one more doll that the letter..." Although tired, Reid's brain was still running at a million miles an hour and it wouldn't calm down enough for him to sleep until he said everything he had to say.

"Ah, ah, ah. I'm getting to that." Reid threw his hands up, exasperated that someone would try to ruin his big ta-da moment. From there, he spoke fast. "The unsub doesn't want your sister, just like they don't want you or your mom. It's just a scare tactic. Is it possible that the unsub would kill your sister? Yes, but I don't think the unsub would kill your sister unless they were going to kill you, too. It would generally do them no good. The only reason the unsub is even using you as the her is to lure out Gideon, like I said, and they're using your sister as leverage to try and get you to stop helping with the case. They're doing the same thing to you that they were doing to me. But this is also the perfect opportunity for the unsub to have us focus the attention on your family to throw us off of their trail. I'm not saying that your mom doesn't still need protected; although I don't think she'd be harmed, it would also be irresponsible to not cover all of our bases. The reason I say this is because if the unsub doesn't get what they want after the next killing or you don't play fair, I think the unsub would kill your family if that's what they thought it took to lure Gideon out, which they obviously think proposed harm to your family will do. If they killed your sister now or anyone else in your family, you would stop cooperating and most likely Gideon would come in with guns blazing. If the harm is only perpetuated, Gideon would come in ready to negotiate, and as of now, he'd be negotiating for a life, so he'd have a reason to cooperate with the unsub. It was easier to lure Gideon out here the first time. All the unsub had to do was start killing women. They probably killed the first person at random. They found the easiest person they could bring down, but continued to kill women who looked similar to get the attention of the BAU. It's certain earmarks such as that, that we look for when taking a case. The first kill wasn't calculated and neither was the victimology, like this has been."

"If this is so calculated, how do we explain the lack of a pattern with the killings? The first letter turned up no bodies, the second two, and the last turned up one, and now one more is being threatened." Garcia, being worried, yet oh so impressed by Reid's mini genius skills, sat in aww, munching on her food as if she were seeing a spectacular movie. The other two noticed, but chose to go about their business, each being too into what was going on to care.

"Well, the killings aren't exactly non calculated or off pattern, overall. The unsub is killing women who look like you specifically to frighten you. We've essentially wasted our time talking to the victims' parents, because there is no connection to these girls other than a very basic physical appearance, because it's not about them. The unsub is also killing them in the same manner. To add to that, if the unsub kills one more person they would have killed twelve, leaving Gideon to be unlucky number thirteen, which was actually a lucky number for the Vikings. Because of their pillaging and mass destruction, people began to hate the Vikings, therefore..." Hotch sighed loud enough to even catch Garcia's attention. She half expected he'd show up behind her like he often did, and scare the heebies out of her. When it failed to phase Reid, he was forced to cut in.

"Reid, please." Garcia could just picture him rubbing his head from the other side of the phone, wondering what he did to get someone who was so smart, yet so oblivious, on his team.

"Right. I doubt that wasn't part of the plan. This unsub set a goal for themselves, a number of dolls they would ultimately kill before they considered acting upon their threats to Lo, to the her. Although I still doubt they will unless they feel they absolutely have to, like their purpose will be fulfilled no other way. Regardless, it's the rate in which they're killing them that's odd. In the original case, the unsub killed one doll every two days. Now they're all over the place. This tells me that the unsub's mental state is dwindling. It probably has been for the six years. The unsub probably legitimately thought they killed Gideon that night, but when they found out they didn't, that's when they stopped killing. Most serial killers would have continued to kill regardless, not stopping until they got to Gideon, and would have especially kept going to keep Gideon in Nashville. They would have killed at a more alarming rate, in rage over their failure. When a serial killer stops, there's a reason. A man would have kept going. Gideon not dying would have been a challenge to them. Their failure would have given them a false sense of Godliness, like they could justify killing these women; like it was their right to kill these women to get to the person they viewed as their target. Whatever reason they had for killing Gideon, they still had to have viewed him as an adversary. The were seeking revenge on him for something, and threatening the family of someone he once saved is their own way of reflecting that revenge back on him. It's their way of getting revenge if he ultimately refuses to give himself up. He'll lose either way. The same is true for a woman, only a woman would have taken the failure personally. When she realized her plan didn't work, instead of blaming Gideon like a man would do, she would blame herself. This would most likely have the opposite effect on her than it would have on a man. Instead of going out and continuing to kill, she would have taken time to figure out where her plan went wrong, to regroup, to come up with a better plan so that not only would she succeeded in getting Gideon, but she would make sure her plan was airtight so she wouldn't get caught. A man would most likely get caught because of their blown up sense of self delusion." Reid wrote one last thing on the window, circling it, too, and then tracing a line from a few of the bubbles, linking them together. He was writing faster than Lo's brain was thinking.

"So you think we're right about the killer being a woman?" For the first time, Prentiss spoke. She had been on board with this theory from their first meeting back at the BAU. It seemed like now the evidence was coming in to back that.

"Absolutely. And I think we're ready to give the profile." After pulling a piece off her donut, Lo launched it at Reid, hitting im square in the head. It wasn't that she didn't like him, but now he was mentioning more work; work that she could not prepare her brain to complete tonight, especially with knowing what tomorrow was about to bring. "HEY!"

Although the screeching, high pitched voice that would otherwise be mistaken for a woman's rang loud through the phone, Hotch ignored it. He didn't need to know what was going on there. He knew Reid. He knew one of the two women he had left him with, and he had a pretty fair idea that the other wasn't about to take any crap from him. He was sure it was just a little healthy harassment via the girls.

"Reid, Garcia, Lo, good work. Pack up your things for the night. We'll be headed back to the station momentarily. My team, as well as anyone else who isn't supposed to be on shift tonight, can head back home once we get there. We'll leave the night shift to reconvene and split patrol orders accordingly. We are still looking for any potential victims matching the current physical victimology. All officers are to stay at Catherine's house until we can get her moved to a facility. We'll have every officer meet back at the station at seven am sharp. Actually, make it eight. It's been a long day for everyone and I know we're all lacking sleep. We'll give the profile then." Hotch hung up the phone faster than anyone could question his sudden lack of work ethic. Although he valued and cared for his team, it wasn't like him to allow everyone that extra hour of sleep when they were there to do a job. No one was complaining, however.

"Oh, bless him. I am so tired that I don't even care if I to see my sexy batch of chocolate pudding before I turn in for the night. This panics me, because I may not have those wonderful dreams about him that I like to have...but you don't want to know about that. Just give me one minute, my kittens, and I will be back from my office with my things, and ready to go back to the hotel." Both Reid and Lo were stunned with what almost became a blatant over share and also relieved when she spirited out of her chair to go back to her little technical heaven where her purse lay. As soon as she was gone and the pair were alone, Lo took the opportunity to approach Spencer, in awe of his talent and feeling rather worthless, like nothing she had done or could do would be as helpful as he was.

"Spencer, how did you get all of that from the letters? Can you...can you teach me to do that?" Lo didn't like being left behind. She never claimed to know everything, and she knew from the time she made the conscious decision to physically track Reid down that he was smarter than her, but up until now she thought she was the key to the case.

She thought she would be the one to figure it out, since it revolved around her family. Now she could see that she was expendable. She wouldn't be the one to crack the case, but fear leapt into her throat at the realization that although the unsub wasn't targeting her mother and sister directly, Reid seemed to think they would hurt them if Gideon didn't pop up by the next killing. She didn't want Gideon to show up, because she didn't want him to get killed, but she didn't want her sister to die, either. If anything, Reid's realization made her feel more hopeless than before, although she wouldn't show it. She wondered how often Reid was wrong, but ultimately didn't like the odds.

"I don't know that it's something I can teach you. I'm sorry." Reid didn't look at her while he talked, collecting the letters to put in the case file and getting everything together so that they could leave. Maybe that made Lo's next question easier to ask knowing his eyes wouldn't be on her, that he wouldn't be able to read the true reason for her asking, and he wouldn't be thinking about it enough to question it.

"Since we now know that the letters are what we should be paying attention to, are you going to get out the letters that were written to Agent Gideon and go over those to see what you can learn from them?" Those letters were something she had been dying to see. Although she was helping the team, no one had allowed her to get her hands on the case file, therefore not allowing her to see the letters. If Reid got them out, they'd be in open range, and she could see them and also possibly strike up a conversation about them with him if she was crafty enough.

"I don't have to. I have them memorized. I already factored them in when I formed my inference." Just like that, her hopes were dashed. Not only was she not able to think of another way to try and get her eyes on those letters, but she was too tired to be able to consciously hide the disappointment in her voice.

"Oh." Reid stopped what he was doing, turning to look at Lo. For a boy that wasn't socially conscious, her vocal tone had not escaped him. Even if he didn't understand why, he was worried.

"What's wrong?" Crossing his arms, he leaned up against a nearby desk, awaiting her answer. She worked quickly to rebuttal and hide herself.

"I feel like an orphan. I have no idea where I'm supposed to stay. I assume I'm supposed to go back to my mom's and just meet you here in the morning?" She came out with the only other thing she could think of, feeling incredibly awkward and knowing what she said was tagged with red flags. Thank the good Lord Reid missed that sort of thing.

"If we wanted you at your mom's, we would have left you there. You'll have to ask Hotch when he gets back, but I'm pretty sure you're meant to stay with us." It hadn't really been talked about, but her mom's was a half an hour away and already swarming with cops, her house was an hour and a half away, and he didn't feel comfortable with her being alone through all of this. He knew Hotch wouldn't either.

"She is. As soon as the rest of the team files in, I will give everyone their sleeping arrangements for the night. Let's not complicate things just because there's someone new staying with us. I would like to get some sleep tonight." Normally, Hotch let everyone play hotel key Tetris until they were happy with their rooms. He wasn't in the mood tonight, so he waited for the others to trickle in, and then laid down the law there and then. "Now that everyone is here, Dave, you can stay with me. Morgan and Reid, you're in the second room. Girls, you can all stay together."

"Not again! Hotch!" As quickly as Garcia had come back in the room for orders and began to chatter in Lo's ear about how it was going to be just like a slumber party, and she was so excited, Morgan put his two cents in, whining. It still didn't deter Garcia's gaiety.

"Do you have a problem sharing a room with Reid?" By now, it was predictable who would end up rooming with whom, even though there were always the exceptions, the changing of the room keys and general commotion here and there. Every time Morgan whined for about five minutes, and then gave up the ghost of his dreams being slashed.

"Why don't you sleep with him for once? I always get stuck with him!" Hotch did have a sense of humor, but he wasn't about to show it now. He had once pondered the question of what was so bad about sharing a room with Reid. Then he shared a room with Reid.

"Because he snores." Straight faced as ever, the answer was given, a fact that couldn't be denied. It was also a damaging fact that would insure Morgan was stuck with Reid for good.

"EXACTLY!" Both of Morgan's hands flung forward. He was an imposing guy with a very good case, yet no one cared. Everyone was unfazed by this rant, except for Reid, who, at first, was insulted, but now found this to be the norm. He even stopped trying to convince everyone he didn't snore. One night with Hotch set him in his place for good.

"I can sleep through anything...if you can't." Maybe it was because she was new to this, or maybe it was because she just felt bad for Reid, but Lo cut in. She had spent enough nights in a disruptive household to be able to sleep through snoring, and know the difference between it and cries for help.

"Thank you! Finally!" Morgan was joyful, but it was in vain, as he was about to find out. Hotch was going to crush that tiny little dream of his.

"Buttercup, does that mean we're sharing a room? I would be willing to have my fabulous slumber party ruined for you." Garcia, however, didn't see it that way. Even though her fantasies of girls' nights and sleepovers in the midst of a murder case were strong, she was still willing to give them up for her favorite man, especially if it meant getting to see a little bit of skin.

"We're both sharing a room with him. He can have his own bed." Prentiss didn't want anything hinky going on. She just wanted sleep. She didn't think Morgan and Garcia would go there, but she didn't feel like taking any chances. She was afraid she'd end up accidentally shooting one of them in their no-no places if such a thing were to happen. Splitting them up was always best.

"Guys! Guys! No. I've given you your orders. Let's try to at least pretend we're ladies and gentlemen as we exit the police station. Come on." Not in the mood to mess with his team, not tonight at least, and especially not in front of half the police force and Lo, Hotch started out the door. It was implied everyone would follow him to the awaiting SUVs, although the hotel was close by. If they didn't, they could sleep in the police station for all he cared at that point in the day. They were big boys and girls.

The team, all weary and worst for wear, filed out in a jumble of thoughts and actions that could be read from a mile away. If the unsub was watching, which they were sure they were, they had to know their plan was working. Maybe Reid wasn't backing down and Lo was still acting fearless, but the entire team was exhausted. As they got into the SUVs, all barely able to lift their heads to forge a thought, the unsub marked another notch on their proverbial belt. If nothing else, she could dwindle them down one by one in the game of the minds.


End file.
